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 116, Volume 23 Number 6, July - August 1997.

Five Poems Simon Armitage


Lepus

Mist, asleep like poison gas
in the valleys underneath. But up here
clear skies, where the mind comes up
from the deep, lighter than air.

With a girl's fist for a head,
second-hand fur, kangaroo legs, a hare,
triggered out of the earth
in a triple-jump sprint, keeps up with the car.




The Stern

My heart went out to the Falkland's widow, screwed
by the Falkland's hero with medals and wounds, the bloke
whose cover was blown on the day he referred
to the back of the boat as 'the back of the boat'.

Portsmouth Harbour in '82, an afterthought.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image