Poetry Nottingham

 

NEWS FOR SUBSCRIBERS AND CONTRIBUTORS TO POETRY NOTTINGHAM

 

I am very pleased to communicate good news to you in connection with the future of Poetry Nottingham.

 

As you will know, these are hard times for the publicly funded arts in the UK and PN was one of the many magazines to have had its Arts Council grant cancelled in 2007.  I would like to express thanks to all who supported the magazine with subscription renewals and submissions of work in the time that has elapsed since the cut. The continuing regularity of the former, the high quality of the latter, allied to my own brand of head in the sand optimism and the generosity of an individual well wisher have combined to keep us afloat.

 

This represents a fragile construction however, and is no recipe for development. I’m delighted to confirm that the magazine has now secured new funding from the University of Derby.  The prospects for development for a poetry magazine with a secure financial footing, embedded within a University and looking beyond academic, regional and national borders (as PN has always strived to) are very exciting.

 

I am sure readers will appreciate that owing to the new geographical dispensation, a name change is appropriate. Beginning with the next issue the magazine will be known as ASSENT  - a name that I hope combines nuances of openness and aspiration to excellence. But if you are interested in the clinching “that’s it!” moment of decision, I would point you to Elizabeth Bishop’s poem ‘Anaphora’.

 

In order to avoid a prolonged break in the publishing schedule, I decided to continue preparation for the next issue of PN, before the funding agreement was secured. I trust that those writers with work accepted and recent subscribers will agree that ASSENT is as worthy a destination for their work and money as PN was. The magazine will be mailed in June.

 

As many of you will know, the magazine has historical roots with the Nottingham Poetry Society. These include an ongoing agreement to publish the winners and commended poets in the annual Nottingham Open competition. I would like to assure all entrants to this competition that this agreement is unchanged. Further news regarding editorial arrangements and new features in the magazine are being discussed. I hope that you as readers and writers will be willing to join this discussion over the coming months.

 

Finally, I would like to thank all of you for your continuing support. I hope you will enjoy and assent to the new Poetry Nottingham!

 

Adrian Buckner

(Editor)

 

 

   

Submission to ‘Poetry Nottingham’ should be made to Adrian Buckner (Editor)
11 Orkney Close, Stenson Fields, Derbyshire DE24 3LW, enclosing SAE for return.

From Vol 62/3 

Selected by Derrick Buttress

 

LOUISE BIOSKI

The year was 1947

because I remember

writing the number,

carefully, with difficulty.

Third grade,

Bradleyville School,

I see now

 that you were in love with me,

sitting at your desk near mine.

Your dress

had been washed so many times

its thinness settles now

on my hands like a dust.

You admired the small smooth facets

I made with my secret jackknife

when I sharpened my pencil.

Your fingers, wet with spit to erase,

told me how poor you were.

Remember how that year

the school doctor used to visit our class

and on the slate blackboard

he drew with white chalk

each letter of the alphabet

as a little person. We laughed

at how he made a C, bent with gloom.

Louise, you need a bath.

But first, here – here’s my eraser, it’s yours.

 

                                                    William Gilson

 

WEST COUNTRY ENTERTAINMENT

 

Red and white geraniums block my view.

I drink my Italian house red

and make a note about sight-lines.

 

On the opposite pavement a policeman

attempts to move a beggar who clings

to his pitch like a rock-hugging rook.

 

Trunch him one, copper!

Stick to your guns, beggar!

I tick the box for audience participation.

 

The copper tears off a strip of paper for the beggar

who picks up his blanket and starts to walk.

I tick the box for alienation.

 

The copper stabs his pen in his shirt pocket

and speaks into his mobile phone

which glints in the sun like a scudetto.

 

I fill in my audience survey form.

 

                                                             Michael Henry

 

 

 

 

 

HIS OLD TRICKS

 

She lay on the lounger, watching

the rabbit nuzzle the lobelia,

quietly recombining her oh so

 

elegant torso and fishnet-covered legs,

all within the lifespan of the ice-cubes

in her G&T. The breeze rolled his hat

 

gently on its rim under the cherry trees

and a monotony of white doves cooed

from every nearby roof. And all the while

 

inside, he tried to picture a card,

any card, worked on his collection

of false walls, secret door, hinges

 

on which to swing the balance of the evening,

still sweet, but clouding over now,

blowing smoke across the sun and moon.

 

                                                            Matt Merritt