<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
North Dakota<\/strong><\/p>\n O\u2019 this sky of denim blue- <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Aim\u00e9e Keeble<\/strong> was born in London but raised in America. Once graduating from high school, she moved back to London to pursue a career as an actress. She has been writing short stories and poems since she was a child. Her work has been recently published by the Lighthouse journal,Forward Poetry, <\/em>and ink, sweat and tears<\/em>. Her greatest inspiration has been her great uncle Alexander Trocchi, a beat writer who produced a handful of novels and began a prose and poetry publication called Merlin. She hopes to follow in his footsteps and have a literary publication of her own one day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" North Dakota O\u2019 this sky of denim blue- Like a cowboy\u2019s thighs And the river water wrinkled like old skin, All alone sit I on the brown horse, Remembering- That fences can be kicked down And soul isn\u2019t made for staying Aim\u00e9e Keeble was born in London but raised […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10045","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10045","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10045"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10045\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10048,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10045\/revisions\/10048"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10045"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10045"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10045"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nLike a cowboy\u2019s thighs
\nAnd the river water wrinkled like old skin,
\nAll alone sit I on the brown horse,
\nRemembering-
\nThat fences can be kicked down
\nAnd soul isn\u2019t made for staying<\/p>\n