PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
News and Notes
Digital Access to PN Review
Access the latest issues, plus back issues of PN Review with Exact Editions For PN Review subscribers: to access the PN Review digital archive via the Exact Editions app Exactly or the Exact Editions website, you will first need to know your PN Review ID number. read more
PN Review Prize winners announced
Carcanet Press and PN Review are delighted to announce the winners of the first ever PN Review Prize. read more
Most Read... Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Drew MilneTom Raworth’s Writing
‘present past improved’: Tom Raworth’s Writing

(PN Review 236)
Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Alejandro Fernandez-OsorioPomace (trans. James Womack)
(PN Review 236)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Kei MillerIn the Shadow of Derek Walcott
1930–2017

(PN Review 235)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Gratis Ad 1
Gratis Ad 2
Next Issue Peter Scupham at 85: a celebration Contributions by Anne Stevenson, Robert Wells, Peter Davidson, Lawrence Sail

This poem is taken from PN Review 198, Volume 37 Number 4, February - March 2011.

Four Poems Eva Luka
Blue Gap

The last night with you, the wine almost
drunk up, its red breath
still damp. The Thai music
lies like an embryo in a dark womb
in this enchanted, craved for
room. Is it the scent that's shackled me to you,
Blue Gap, mingled with the odour
of musty books? I touch you
for the last time, it's like my mother in childhood
killing a rooster; he's still beautiful
and yet already gone. The wine is improper,
like blood, it doesn't belong. It shines, a pomegranate
full of pips, a derisive
ruby.

The indefinite pain, known as dailiness,
comes with the face of a licking dog, with the dog
howling. We sleep entangled in one another, but
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image