Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
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
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 55, Volume 13 Number 5, May - June 1987.

Belgrade John F. Deane

Grey evening settles slowly down on Serbia.

I have a room on the 14th floor, Hotel Slavija;
below me, in the square, the trams
articulate their maggot shapes around
the bust of a national hero; they take
quick gulps of power from the cables
overhead, and I look down on flashes of blue
lightning. I am sitting
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image