In the latest issue:

The American Virus

Eliot Weinberger

The Home Life of Inspector Maigret

John Lanchester

Story: ‘Have a Seat in the Big Black Chair’

Diane Williams

The Last Whale

Colin Burrow

In Beijing

Long Ling

Princess Margaret and Lady Anne

Rosemary Hill

At the Movies: ‘Arkansas’

Michael Wood

Ruin it your own way

Susan Pedersen

At Home

Jane Miller

The Ottoman Conundrum

Helen Pfeifer

Poem: ‘Muntjac’

Blake Morrison

The Inequality Engine

Geoff Mann

Short Cuts: In Tripoli

Jérôme Tubiana

Coetzee Makes a Leap

Christopher Tayler

At Auckland Castle: Francisco de Zurbarán

Nicola Jennings

Drain the Swamps

Steven Shapin

Diary: In the Isolation Room

Nicholas Spice

Close
Close

Pretty Little

I’m not lonely
because I have secrets;

I’m lonely because words
can’t bring the past
into the present

(which amounts to the same thing).

        *

Jack Rabbit
and the Lonely Present

is the title of a book
I almost wrote

        *

I’m lonely because
you’re sure you’ve heard
something like this
everywhere before.

        *

Polly Pea Pod
And the Deep Hole

        *

You think you can make
something out of it

the way you made much
of the slanted light
and deep shadows
of autumn.

Parallax

The first value is focus.
Then balance.

Backward and forward
offset.

Tat for tat –
just so, as if.

These phantom limbs
go parallax.

‘Make something of your life.’
Something inanimate.

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