Teach Yourself

A new poem

Alan Brownjohn

Will further words come with the wine
I sink alone at half-past nine,
The local grape help with all these
Grammatical necessities?
I doubt it.
    Yet this bottle gleams
With various self-improvement schemes,
And so once more I fill my glass
Quite unaware that pure disas-
ter lurks twelve hours from now…
            Drink sends
Me forward hopefully, and lends
A sense of satisfaction to
The brisk revisions I pursue
For want of more romantic ways
Of seeing out these foreign days.
Muttering verbs under one’s breath
May not disperse the fear of death
But now the air-conditioning hums,
And slowly the subjunctive comes!

Underrated: Abroad

The ravenous longing for the infinite possibilities of “otherwhere”

The king of cakes

"Yuletide revels were designed to see you through the dark days — and how dark they seem today"