This poem is taken from PN Review 170, Volume 32 Number 6, July - August 2006.
Three PoemsGlobal Here
What sort of weather plays across the soul?
Thought, in cold bedrooms, congeals again
smudging the window-pane. In paradox
we wrestle with the what of what-is-not
while early-woken hoons burn rubber
up and down the dove-grey street outside.
The colour of your thought has no clear name
or else it had a name and you forgot -
amethyst? mauve? lapis lazuli? -
the nether mind can often be contrary,
just like that low moving in across the bight
with a Sheep Weather Alert and scattered showers.
You battle on, take an umbrella, sing
the sweet and corny songs of adolescence.
Fortune tends to favour the south-west wind.
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?