<\/p>\n
The Faithful<\/strong><\/p>\n Clad in starched and shiny best, Their line is punctuated by static carriages, where, For few are young, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Dave Hubble<\/strong> is a regular performer at events in the south of England, and can be found running a variety of writing workshops. As well as Ink, Sweat & Tears, he has been published in places such as Zoomorphic and Maligned Species, and blogs at davehubble.wordpress.com.<\/a> His first collection is entitled Subduction Zone, and people seem to like it.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Faithful Clad in starched and shiny best, once-a-week worshippers snake towards the tower, drawn by its glingle-glongle call. Their line is punctuated by static carriages, where, slumped in back seats or perched on heavy batteries, the immobile, no longer self-propelled, sit like summer dogs in hot cars, and await a steady arm. For […]<\/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-12601","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12601","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=12601"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12601\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13501,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12601\/revisions\/13501"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12601"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12601"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12601"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nonce-a-week worshippers snake towards the tower,
\ndrawn by its glingle-glongle call.<\/p>\n
\nslumped in back seats
\nor perched on heavy batteries,
\nthe immobile, no longer self-propelled,
\nsit like summer dogs in hot cars,
\nand await a steady arm.<\/p>\n
\neven merely middle-aged,
\nand it seems that being old means
\nlast-chance hedge-bets,
\ngambling precious days on an afterlife,
\neyes flinty as the walls they hope to enter.<\/p>\n