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

(PN Review 241)
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)
Next Issue Jen Schmitt on Ekphrasis Rachel Hadas on Text and Pandemic Kirsty Gunn Essaying two Jee Leong Koh Palinodes in the Voice of my Dead Father Maureen Mclane Correspondent Breeze
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 153, Volume 30 Number 1, September - October 2003.

Two Poems Richard Bush


Poulet de Bresse

In no time at all after that meeting in Cellini's
I had to find ways of missing out the love thing,
Painting in dates at the festival
Where that dress you were barely wearing
And the strap which kept coming down
Tantalisingly were, and I brushed the collar bone
With a kiss, while whispering about the strange
Arrangement in Orsino's tights. How,
When we ate at the Connaught
In the early evening brown hush,
We smirked behind our superior finger
Resting on our lips, as the Americans asked
If they had any wine? That was, I think,
The weekend before we engineered
An afternoon of lust and television
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image