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 157, Volume 30 Number 5, May - June 2004.

Arcades in Anglish Michael Haslam

It was my dream, a claim to author
    North England Arcades of Song succeeded.
Surely such was needed. Soon to finish,
I had made A Life Arcade.
    Bell Tone Should Sound Strong.
Only the strings of the electrics were
    connected wrong. Soon a new light
would anglify the decked nook
    with sharper definition,
and I could at length recline
    into a simple prose of shade.
The sharp defined.

It falls apart each time. The building of arcades
in rhyme. The studding clumped with pangs, in pine.
Scant frame. Synthetic blue tarpaulin, or
    an heavy canvas over skip-reclaimed spars.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image