Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Hal Coase 'Ochre Pitch' Gregory Woods 'On Queerness' Kirsty Gunn 'On Risk! Carl Phillips' Galina Rymbu 'What I Haven't Written' translated by Sasha Dugdale Gabriel Josipovici 'No More Stories' Valerie Duff-Strautmann 'Anne Carson's Wrong Norma'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review 275
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 153, Volume 30 Number 1, September - October 2003.

Two Poems Richard Bush


Poulet de Bresse

In no time at all after that meeting in Cellini's
I had to find ways of missing out the love thing,
Painting in dates at the festival
Where that dress you were barely wearing
And the strap which kept coming down
Tantalisingly were, and I brushed the collar bone
With a kiss, while whispering about the strange
Arrangement in Orsino's tights. How,
When we ate at the Connaught
In the early evening brown hush,
We smirked behind our superior finger
Resting on our lips, as the Americans asked
If they had any wine? That was, I think,
The weekend before we engineered
An afternoon of lust and television
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image