ROTTEN FRUIT

Byron De La Beckwith

I.

I fish for pleasure and to relax.

It’s the best way

to sort out details of a plan

that needs flawless execution.

Every useful thing I know

I learned sitting in the bottom

of a boat across from my granddaddy

in one of Mississippi’s finest

fishing holes. How to

pick out the best spot. How to

get there early. How to lay

low, be patient and wait.

II.

Watching your cork disappear

in the water, bob back up and run

is as thrilling as sneaking your hand

up under a pretty girl’s skirt.

They all put up a lil’ fight, at first

but sooner or later a lucky man

will get his hands on a cat;

a patient man, inside a big wide mouth.

There’s something about the thought

of a wet body, flapping about

and gasping for breath

that gives me chills, even now.

III.

Sometimes we’d just sit and smoke,

swim in some ice cold beers,

enjoy the sound of no women around

or shoot at ghosts if fish weren’t biting.

Sometimes we’d get drunk and argue

for hours about who would win

in a fair fight between his nigger, jack,

and that nigger, joe louis.

IV.

He rode me hard for bragging

about catching the big one,

but I know he bragged even harder

about teaching me how to fish.