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 60, Volume 14 Number 4, March - April 1988.

Five Poems Christopher Middleton

Cybele

It is cold outside so she has walked in
Loving my feet for her own good reasons,

Straight in, tail up, scanning the kitchen
She discovers nothing but a desire

So at my feet she winds and unwinds
Her calico skin. When I tap on the blotter

Up she lifts a paw, forgets, listens again,
Looking elsewhere, if elsewhere is anywhere

And curls in a fit of abandon
Around the tongue of my tennis shoe.

Her paw milks the lace, her paw milks ankle bone,
Amorously unparticular she forgets her milk

Habit, suddenly crouches, licking her tail:
Suddenly I know nothing for her is sudden

For she forgets her forgotten tail, silent
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image