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The Ghosts of Devon<\/strong><\/p>\n I see the clash of sea I see a ghostly old sea village Leaves float like sequins that hang <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Born 1971, Bristol U.K. Matt Duggan<\/strong> won the erbacce prize for poetry in 2015 with his new collection Dystopia 38.10<\/em> (erbacce-press) he has\u00a0appeared in The Seventh Quarry, The Journal, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, The Linnet’s Wings, Lakeview International Lterary Journal, The High Window,\u00a0Of\/With:Journal of Immanent Renditions.<\/em> Matt also runs a poetry evening in Bristol titled Page and Performance and is the co-editor of The Angry Manifesto<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Ghosts of Devon I see the clash of sea Shining rock of dead black Broken bark cracking the weeping shorelines a crumbled gun-turret above the beautiful belly of Torcross; faint circles of white trailed blue whirlpools fading into depth. I see a ghostly old sea village Souls of fishing women – […]<\/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-11993","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11993","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=11993"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11993\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11995,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11993\/revisions\/11995"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11993"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11993"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11993"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nShining rock of dead black
\nBroken bark cracking the weeping shorelines
\na crumbled gun-turret above the beautiful belly of Torcross;
\nfaint circles of white trailed blue
\nwhirlpools fading into depth.<\/p>\n
\nSouls of fishing women – Field of daisy picker,
\nI journey\u00a0 the battered coastline,
\nSip from cloudy glass of apple
\nSeagulls feed on chip pebbles while the smoke of hand rolled tobacco
\nInhaled the brutal silence;<\/p>\n
\nCircling a sky humbled by vicious twists,
\nA crooked aerial like a falling angel
\nbludgeoned on the surface of mapped ether.<\/p>\n