This poem is taken from PN Review 177, Volume 34 Number 1, September - October 2007.
Two PoemsNo Place
It's hard to fathom anymore
with no more news from nowhere.
Quiet nostalgia is a frail reed to justify
lives lived to the rhythm of tv dinners
and traffic reports. The verities of weather
trouble us only on video while our lives
seal us up with air-borne mites and moulds.
Where did all these lung ailments come from
anyway? The pine scented fresheners
don't seem to work and wearied
by the ersatz sublime desperate measures
are required. At least by some.
Poor heart: no more Aeolian
strings humming the hyperbolic ether, a dynamo
gorgeously electrifying us in all our struggles
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 285 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 285 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
