Anne Rouse

Anne Rouse works for Islington MIND.

Poem: ‘Daytrip’

Anne Rouse, 8 February 1990

We’d left the cameras in the Hertz But made St P.’s for the tourist Passion. I knew one of the trio: permapressed, a little weary This is what he did on his vacations. A few bearded heads bled from the corbels. We walked by the pleated steps of a temple In whose maw someone was being tried with flame.

We took in the long galleria before lunch. Sloan made some remark about art...

Two Poems

Anne Rouse, 14 September 1989

Christmas Break

We’ve floored it from London. The bridge winches up; the moat bares To green algae silk, kitchen relics, The bones of suicides.

The snow, fine as bride’s Fine lace, stacks up its trousseau: A terrain in bedsheets, smoothed from memory. The town’s dead as midnight.

Rushing the houses of the estate, The wind skims the roof Like a bruising hand. From now, a...


James Wood, 5 August 1993

Poetry anthologies are now expected to make holy war; but what to do with The New Poetry, which strives so earnestly to turn its trumpet-majors into angels? The 55 poets collected here are, it...

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