There’s news about oil on Radio Eireann:
Exxon’s profits are up 30 per cent.
And the Pope will not,
it now appears,
visit the North.
Too many problems of security.
I prefer the news at home.
Edna and I made love this morning,
her egg tasted ten times better
in the new eggcup from the Aillwee Craft Shop,
and I opened one of those paper cartons of milk
without making a mess.
I’m in my study now,
at half ten,
looking out on the weed-green garden.
The zucinni squash are all over ground,
and those cabbage plants that Micky gave us
have taken root.
2. Later
Edna just told me how to spell zucchini,
and she brought me a rose in a ceramic vase
to remind me of her nipple.
3. Still later
I’m sitting here looking at the rose
that Edna gave me
to remind me of her nipple.
I sat down with the intention
of writing a poem.
But instead I’m looking at the rose
and thinking about Edna’s nipple.
Her right nipple.
Send Letters To:
The Editor
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN
letters@lrb.co.uk
Please include name, address, and a telephone number.
