Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(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 Kirsty Gunn re-arranges the world John McAuliffe reads Seamus Heaney's letters and translations Chris Price's 'Songs of Allegiance' David Herman on Aharon Appelfeld Victoria Moul on Christopher Childers compendious Greek and Latin Lyric Book Philip Terry again answers the question, 'What is Poetry'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 111, Volume 23 Number 1, September - October 1996.

Two Poems Gregory Woods


This Bird, That

1

This bird is an omen, that a potential meal.
We cleave to the conditions we could just as well
build pleasure domes against. The drizzle in our hair
is reassuring evidence of more to life
than setting minefields and extorting fortunes for
the maps. A small proportion in our midst look good
in uniform. We flatter them. We lick their boots.
They in return disdainfully acknowledge us
by starting minor wars for us to watch them win.

2

Relief is a matter of silences, desire
a shadow in the barrack room. From dead of night
to break of day the dreams we suffer from predict,
if we could only read them, personal events
years in advance, from sacraments to accidents
while crossing streets or climbing ladders, even slips
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image