{"id":12379,"date":"2017-01-25T09:00:18","date_gmt":"2017-01-25T09:00:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=12379"},"modified":"2016-10-31T11:50:37","modified_gmt":"2016-10-31T11:50:37","slug":"aki-schilz","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/aki-schilz\/","title":{"rendered":"Aki Schilz"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>One last goodbye to start<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>You board a plane set<br \/>\ninto a bevel-edged hum of concrete;<br \/>\nit has spread its enormous metal wings<br \/>\ninto the inkspill of this, your last<br \/>\nEnglish night: damp chill<br \/>\nand dryskin hands like rustle-paper,<br \/>\nnow you \u2018taxi\u2019 (how absurd<br \/>\nan expression when<br \/>\nthe feeling is like<br \/>\npressing into a world<br \/>\nwhose red gravity switch<br \/>\nhas been snapped at the wire)<br \/>\ndown the path lit by lamps<br \/>\nwhose sodium lights effervesce<br \/>\nin the early-morning muck<br \/>\nand the wind socks hang limp<br \/>\nas you draw a salt-hard blanket<br \/>\naround your foreign shoulders<br \/>\nand wish you had an aspirin<br \/>\nand think that in thirteen hours<br \/>\nyou will be so near to the forest<br \/>\nyour mouth and nose will fill<br \/>\nwith green but for now, the world<br \/>\nis lifting away in squares<br \/>\nand the sodium lamps<br \/>\nare stretched in the curve<br \/>\nof your small window,<br \/>\nlike arrowless bows<br \/>\none after the other<br \/>\nafter the other.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Aki Schilz<\/strong> is co-founder of the <a href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/LossLit\">#LossLit <\/a>Twitter project with Kit Caless, and co-editor of <em>LossLit Magazine.<\/em> Her poetry, flash fiction, short stories and creative non-fiction have been published in various magazines both online and in print. She tweets books, editing and publishing at @TLCUK, and micropoetry at @AkiSchilz.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; One last goodbye to start You board a plane set into a bevel-edged hum of concrete; it has spread its enormous metal wings into the inkspill of this, your last English night: damp chill and dryskin hands like rustle-paper, now you \u2018taxi\u2019 (how absurd an expression when the feeling is like pressing [&hellip;]<\/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-12379","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12379","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=12379"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12379\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12382,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12379\/revisions\/12382"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12379"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12379"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12379"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}