Poem-A-Day

Poem-a-Day is the original and only daily digital poetry series featuring over 200 new, previously unpublished poems by today's talented poets each year. On weekdays, poems are accompanied by exclusive commentary by the poets. The series highlights classic poems on weekends. Launched in 2006, Poem-a-Day is now distributed via email, web, and social media to 300,000+ readers free of charge and is available for syndication by King Features.

Summer

About this Poem 

“I’m interested in Descartes’s mind/body split, how our disembodied go-go-go lives are often interrupted by events, coincidences, individualssignsthose moments that remind us, blatantly, of all those sensations we hope to repress. In short, then, I suppose this poem is about that brilliant trickster Denial’s natural triumph over our own self-perception.”
Robin Coste Lewis

Summer

Robin Coste Lewis

Last summer, two discrete young snakes left their skin on my small porch, two mornings in a row. Being post-modern now, I pretended as if I did not see them, nor understand what I knew to be circling inside me.  Instead, every hour I told my son to stop with his incessant back-chat. I peeled a banana.  And cursed God—His arrogance, His gall—to still expect our devotion after creating love.  And mosquitoes.  I showed my son the papery dead skins so he could know, too, what it feels like when something shows up at your door—twice—telling you what you already know.

Copyright © 2015 by Robin Coste Lewis. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 31, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.

Copyright © 2015 by Robin Coste Lewis. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 31, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.

previous poems

date title authorsort ascending
May 20, 2012 Sea Rose H. D.
December 07, 2012 Lais H. D.
November 22, 2014 Pursuit H. D.
January 23, 2011 Sitalkas H. D.
September 25, 2011 Orchard H. D.
January 13, 2013 The Pool H. D.
September 21, 2014 The Wind Sleepers H. D.
June 14, 2010 Freud James Cummins
May 03, 2010 9. E. E. Cummings
June 21, 2015 my father moved through dooms of love E. E. Cummings

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