Most Read... John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Joshua WeinerAn Exchange with Daniel Tiffany/Fall 2020
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Christopher MiddletonNotes on a Viking Prow
(PN Review 10)
Next Issue Between Languages, Howard Cooper 'Ur-language' Oksana Maksymchuk 'Multifarious Beast' Zinovy Zinik 'My Mother Tongue, My Fatherland' Philip Terry 'Lost Languages' Victoria Moul 'Bad Latin, Barbarous Inglishe'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 68, Volume 15 Number 6, July - August 1989.

The Quiet Ones Gavin Ewart

Stevie was never in Pop
she was in Palmer's Green
her secludedness didn't stop
how can I say what I mean?
She didn't socialize
she didn't play fast and loose
really I suppose what I mean
is she was a sort-of
sort-of recluse.

Larkin lay hidden in Hull
with the grim head-scarved wives
he liked it backward and dull
with the unflamboyant lives.
There's a lot to be said for a bard
who doesn't spread it around
that's what I'm saying now
it's best to be foxlike and go
go to ground.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image