<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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Wilderness<\/strong><\/p>\n We could do that, but we’d have to shoot the dog, Spine like a boulder strewn trail, beside it Alive with ticks the leaf mold undulates The forest burgeons with spiny growth, Streams lead from one bog to the next, returning <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n M. A. Schaffner<\/strong> has had poems published in Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Agni<\/em>, and elsewhere — most recently in Raintown Review, <\/em>and Fox Adoption Magazine.<\/em> Long-ago-published books include the poetry collection The Good Opinion of Squirrels<\/em> and the novel War Boys.<\/em> Schaffner spends most days in Arlington, Virginia juggling a Toshiba laptop and a Gillott 404.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Wilderness We could do that, but we’d have to shoot the dog, skin the rabbit, kick in the deer skull, fashion an altar from the mushroom fleshed ribs. Spine like a boulder strewn trail, beside it the attendant young vulture, head black and fuzzy, tracking his so savory suspicions. Alive with ticks […]<\/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-12041","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041","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=12041"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12043,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041\/revisions\/12043"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12041"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12041"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12041"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nskin the rabbit, kick in the deer skull,
\nfashion an altar from the mushroom fleshed ribs.<\/p>\n
\nthe attendant young vulture, head black and fuzzy,
\ntracking his so savory suspicions.<\/p>\n
\nin sequined waves as the sun stokes
\nair tangible with smoke and perspiration.<\/p>\n
\nobscure species of briar and holly
\neverywhere like the mouths of curious serpents.<\/p>\n
\nto similar thickets, sun, stars, and compass useless
\nas the trails wind down, just where they began.<\/p>\n