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 Gwyneth Lewis ‘Spiderings’ Ian Thomson ‘Fires were started: Tallinn, 1944’ Adrian May ‘Traditionalism and Tradition’ Judith Herzberg ‘Poems’ translated by Margitt Helbert Horatio Morpurgo ‘What is a Book?’
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review 276
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 116, Volume 23 Number 6, July - August 1997.

Three Poems Jacob Townsend


Funny the things I remember about you…
like the way you'd sit -
legs extended, ankles crossed -

the Golden Virginia tin
waiting, perched, almost purring, on your lap,

the lighter clasped in your hand,
held up towards the collar-bone

like a trophy, like a weapon -
your lips thinner when you smoked…

how you'd stand, gazing from the kitchen window
into the nothing and the everywhere and the always.

and how the advent of the parish priest
advancing down the terraced street

like a gunslinger riding into town
precariously symmetrical

on his microscopic moped,
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image