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

(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 220, Volume 41 Number 2, November - December 2014.

Two Poems James McGrath
There’s Nothing to Forgive
Your mate’s in love. He forgets he said he’d meet you
from school on his Friday off. You wait by the bins
and stare at spare pebbles on the green-grey pavement,
not the shrinking crowd of coats and paper paintings.

You wait till the playground’s turned the size of the sky
and there’s only Lent, who’s in your class, and her mum,
who helps on school trips. They walk over, holding hands.
You tread on chewing gum. You’ve never played with Lent

but ‘You’re Lent’s friend’, her mum calls. ‘Is your mummy late?’
You say you’re waiting for your mate. He’s got a car.
Lent’s mum bends down. ‘Is your mummy poorly again?’
Your mum’s just at your gran’s. Your mate’s driving you there.

Lent stares like a doll, but you’re not going to cry.
‘We’re having sausage omelettes for tea,’ her mum winks.
‘You come home with Lent and me.’ And Lent smiles at you,

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image