This poem is taken from PN Review 112, Volume 23 Number 2, November - December 1996.
High and Dry
What is it, where is it, the suburban room
High up in a house with a view of nothing
That would locate it, that I could recognize
If looking were my business now that here
Day-long into an electronic slot I slide
Conundrums from a matrix brought to me
By men who do not speak? And if they spoke,
...
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 285 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 285 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
