Little cup of melancholy,
inch-deep well of the blackest
concentrate of brown,
it comes to your table without ceremony
and stands there shuddering
back to an inner repose.
Pinch it: it’s still hot…
The opening verse of Christopher Reid’s “Espresso”, published by Faber & Faber and part of their poetry calendar, something it’s almost worth abandoning the iPhone for just to be able to pick it up and read each week
The title of today’s post comes from a description later down the poem.