{"id":1299,"date":"2008-07-09T18:29:00","date_gmt":"2008-07-09T18:29:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=1299"},"modified":"2008-07-09T18:29:00","modified_gmt":"2008-07-09T18:29:00","slug":"two-poems-by-sergio-ortiz","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/two-poems-by-sergio-ortiz\/","title":{"rendered":"Two poems by Sergio Ortiz"},"content":{"rendered":"

Simple Things<\/span>
 
\n<\/span>


\nI say goodbye to simple things<\/span>

\nlike trees in autumn peel their leaves.<\/span>

\nMelancholy is the sad slow death<\/span>

\nof simple things that ache.<\/span>

\n <\/span>

\nStay for a while, beneath<\/span>

\nmy noontime sun.<\/span>
 <\/span>

~ ~ ~ ~ ~<\/span>


Gothed<\/span>

 <\/span>
Tina painted my lips black,<\/span>
paleness on the cheeks foggy<\/span>
in layers of transparencies.<\/span>
I gave so much to anger<\/span>
it ached like a scared hitchhiker<\/span>
blowing a trucker in traffic on Interstate 95.<\/span>
 <\/span>
You shook my hand,<\/span>
offered beer. I said: Whiskey,<\/span>
and lit a cigarette.<\/span>
By 4am you were trapped<\/span>
in the undertide of Mata Hari\u2019s tongue.<\/span>
You didn\u2019t remember my name: Sam.<\/span>
But it wasn\u2019t because of the snake shaped ring,<\/span>
with emerald eyes, eating its tail,<\/span>
wrapped around my finger.<\/span>
 <\/span>
You left a rose in front of my door<\/span>
every day for a week.<\/span>
I took off the mask and smiled.<\/span>
We\u2019ll have to get a larger coffin.<\/span>
 <\/span>
 <\/span>
 <\/span>
Sergio Ortiz grew up in Chicago, studied English literature at Inter-American
\nUniversity in San German, Puerto Rico, philosophy at World University and culinary art at The Restaurant School in Philadelphia. Among other titles, his work has been published in and <\/span>The Cave, Origami Condom, Poets Ink Review,
\nFlutterSilenced Press<\/span>. <\/span>
<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Simple Things  I say goodbye to simple things like trees in autumn peel their leaves. Melancholy is the sad slow death of simple things that ache.   Stay for a while, beneath my noontime sun. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Gothed Tina painted my lips black,paleness on the cheeks foggyin layers of transparencies.I gave so much to angerit […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","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-1299","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1299","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\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1299"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1299\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1299"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1299"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1299"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}