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This poem is taken from PN Review 41, Volume 11 Number 3, January - February 1985.

Time & Place Paul McLoughlin

His is no servant's voice, nor will his accent change
the further north we go: 'The buffet-car is open . . .'

Then a flowering of vases stuffed with lids,
sandwich-cellophane and one-off spoons you can

blow bubbles through. The view is soporific, flat
until another row of spires I wouldn't notice

otherwise announces we're about to stop.
Valleys fall away along the local line;
...


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