—after the Jetty Lifeguard Tower at dusk
The means to rebuild & rebrand after flood,
pandemic, all manner of storms—
is not a given.
Generations of oak groves cloaked in Spanish Moss
flanking houses of heaving bookshelves,
creased photo albums,
stitched family
… can all be erased.
The power to plant—
redecorate over
blood-
stained stalks in the sand
—to reclaim & reset the coastline
with sunburst homes of deco
is said to guard lives.
Redevelopers trace
the movement of artists—
history’s insufferable
white blood cells
archivists of harm—
mapping which murals to rebrand
which walls to erase,
capitalizing on the ghosts of
Cafecito-fueled White Parties,
embalming its own Freestyle—
corner store drum & bass.
Copyright © 2026 by Kimberly Reyes. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 29, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.