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)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Next Issue Vahni Capildeo The Boisterous Weeping of Margery Kempe Paul Muldoon The Fly Sinead Morrissey Put Off That Mask Jane Yeh Three Poems Sarah Rothenberg Poetry and Music: Exile and Return
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review Blog
Monthly Carcanet Books

This poem is taken from PN Review 144, Volume 28 Number 4, March - April 2002.

Two Poems after Vermeer Sue Wood


A Glass of Wine

He has been with her all afternoon.
At lunch he sat between her mother and a cousin
talking of ships and cargoes, nutmeg and cloves,
pouring these across the table from a pouch beside his sword.
He never looked at her but crushed
the spices between his thumb and forefinger
until she felt quite giddy with the warm strange scent
that must be the Indies. On his hand the black hairs
stood up like hackles. Her terrier brought in a rat.
And so lunch ended, the dog put outside
and the servant sweeping. Standing up, he brushed
the table clear again. Then turned to her.

So Mama went into town, to get a new piece of lace
or so she said, and the servants were out
and he sat down again.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image