Poetry Less than Daily makes a guest appearance on this blog!

in West Virginia, in 1938



The lake tells a fib
geese cry delirious
           in the suddenly blue blue
blaze of day
           O cherry tomato
kiss me full on the small of my back
           and all the quivers
of summers renew
with a slow curve
as part exact jubilee
and part profaned logic
            Suppose it foretells
a multitude
of kissing?
            Hope is too like despair
accustomed to the open throat
for sorrow is so often a tidy 
secret

Jess Mynes