PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Jamie OsbornIn conversation with Sasha Dugdale
(PN Review 240)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
OUP PNR 246 Banner
PNR CAPILDEO PROMO MARCH 2019
Next Issue Alex Wong embarks on Ausonius's Moselle Christine Blackwell recalls Jonas Mekas Lives of Graves, Trilling and Curnow visited New poems by Lisa Kelly and Jodie Hollander Andy Croft on the 'poetry industry'

This poem is taken from PN Review 239, Volume 44 Number 3, January - February 2018.

Stepping, dreeping Richard Price
Losing the word love

I
need so
much better  
for you Mum. No,
I will say ‘Mother’  

to respect the laughter  
and Star Trek transfers which glow
green/yellow long seconds after
the light switch clicks and the dark you know

is held by gifts to this small child off school –
a broken eardrum, was it, or ‘daymare flu’?
I can’t say love – that word’s too many kinds of true –
catch-all for like, for lust, breaker of its own proud rule:

that love’s select. Love’s too full. I’ll love you until I die.



Choke risk

I
have not
finished yet.
The air is hot,
thick with kapok, debt,

this choke risk. I exist
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image