<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Clifford\u2019s Tower<\/strong><\/p>\n for the Jews of York<\/em><\/p>\n Have we forgotten the astringent of Leeds train station, the student of air, mewing like remnant heralds warm their close-braided cheeks of light so that there comes easy (though whether in design loving Heap ashes on it. To conclude streaming down gilt-golden like What can steel in us remembrance What can render love at its limits, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Karl O’Hanlon<\/strong> grew up near Purdsyburn. His first pamphlet, A Strange Fashion of Forsaking, is to be published by Guillemot Press.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n NB: This poem has previously appeared in\u00a0 – Stand<\/em>, and in\u00a0 Eyewear’s Best New British and Irish Poets 2016.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Clifford\u2019s Tower for the Jews of York Have we forgotten the astringent voice of Silkin, on frigid conscience stupefied? Its queue-badgering ghost must shake the iron-ribbed ceiling of Leeds train station, the student dives, places words choose to fester under the skin. Plates of ice barge the Ouse; two gulls ride […]<\/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-12370","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12370","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=12370"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12370\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12371,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12370\/revisions\/12371"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12370"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12370"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12370"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nvoice of Silkin, on frigid conscience
\nstupefied? Its queue-badgering ghost
\nmust shake the iron-ribbed ceiling<\/p>\n
\ndives, places words choose to fester
\nunder the skin. Plates of ice barge
\nthe Ouse; two gulls ride convections<\/p>\n
\nof some old Norse saga. The heart
\nbrims over. Incongruity is shorn
\nof terror; hobby Vikings at Costa<\/p>\n
\nwith the cups. Malebisse sounds
\nlike morning mist, halitosis low
\nover the stray, the derangement<\/p>\n
\nto the imagination some deity \u2013
\nits immense hands over us \u2013
\nbending light pink and green<\/p>\n
\nor unloving impossible to say).
\nConscience, we might well think,
\nis a kind of bad debt. Shake it off.<\/p>\n
\nthis weekend\u2019s jolly, Clifford\u2019s
\ntower burns again. Illuminations
\nlave the cold stone face, sparks<\/p>\n
\nhyperactive tears; and afterward,
\na girning skull vomiting smoke,
\nlobotomised. All applaud.<\/p>\n
\nof the freezing blade on shoulder
\n-blade, fear\u2019s stone-encircled echo
\nand fire: its hunger, sad, satiable?<\/p>\n
\nreal sexual love, hounded by hate;
\nand in that northern walpurgisnacht,
\ntrue horror of their final non-choice?<\/p>\n