This poem is taken from PN Review 137, Volume 27 Number 3, January - February 2001.
Three PoemsLight Tasks
I arrived in bits,
furious at Copenhagen.
The swans were stretching their necks and biting.
The donkeys stumbled badly on the descent.
How nice your compliments sounded -
it was as if the lights in the priory hall
had been turned on all at once.
The cabbage was marvellous.
Oh! If only I were dressed better!
You seemed a little wanton.
Thistledown, someone said.
And all were weeping, men with white beards.
The dog had perhaps been noble and faithful.
The weather was very mild and still,
as at the opera.
...
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?