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 156, Volume 30 Number 4, March - April 2004.

Four Poems Sinéad Wilson

Curios

Yes, isn't it. I kept it for the piper's face,
it held shortbread once, I think. My wife,
she had her button box and I my relic tin.

That blue pot's a Frinton souvenir,
used as an ashtray so they say.
Whose? Oh, just a man I knew.

These dried morels I found thriving in a shed
near our cottage on the Irish coast.
Those? Oh, just some old plum stones.

Now this betting slip is probably worth a bit.
See, on the back the pencilled scrawl?
That's Brownlee's leaving note. It explains it all.


Infamous

That night fame took liquid form,
arriving with the second round.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image