{"id":130,"date":"2011-01-12T17:10:44","date_gmt":"2011-01-12T17:10:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=130"},"modified":"2011-01-12T17:10:44","modified_gmt":"2011-01-12T17:10:44","slug":"ross-cogan-reflects-on-life-as-a-dog","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/ross-cogan-reflects-on-life-as-a-dog\/","title":{"rendered":"Ross Cogan reflects on life as a dog"},"content":{"rendered":"

My Life as a Dog.<\/span>

At first I preferred the ones that sprung out when<\/span>
I lifted lids. The bright flashbulbs of wild<\/span>
garlic; the fairground ride of engine oil.<\/span>
Opening the gate to a garden<\/span>
full of roses was like stepping inside<\/span>
a warm shower. There are still times when I\u2019ll<\/span>

slap myself in the face with black pepper<\/span>
or let a ripe gruyere rise like the sea.<\/span>
But now I tend to choose the pastel smells, <\/span>
the hint of thyme or jasmine. I prefer<\/span>
to spend the evening in a library<\/span>
slipping the dusty books off of their shelves.<\/span>

I can tell who last handled them, if they<\/span>
were male or female, ill or overweight.<\/span>
I can smell the mouse in the woodpile, <\/span>
the bird on the gate, fear stuck to the body<\/span>
like bubblegum hardening under a seat. <\/span>
I can smell sex on the skin. It\u2019s been a while<\/span>

now since the accident. I lay in bed<\/span>
letting the scent of cheap bleach prod and pinch<\/span>
my face; not knowing if I smelt or saw<\/span>
or even heard it. Later, when my mind<\/span>
had carded out its tangled ends and stitched<\/span>
itself into its box, I found there were <\/span>

things missing: holes the grass had grown over. <\/span>
I\u2019ll trip on them during a conversation. <\/span>
But in return it\u2019s left me such a gift.<\/span>
I\u2019m told some tribes of nomads smell water.<\/span>
Well, I can also tell its composition;<\/span>
a tang of iron or a chalky hint<\/span>

of fluoride. I can turn my crosshairs on <\/span>
anyone and see things they don\u2019t know<\/span>
about themselves: that stomach ulcer which<\/span>
will start to burn them soon; the first sign of <\/span>
a kidney going wrong. This must be how<\/span>
Mozart felt, or Brahms, or Nimzowitsch,<\/span>

or Monet squinting out over those fields<\/span>
that rearranged themselves for him, like crowds <\/span>
jostling to see a circus or a f\u00eate,<\/span>
or ivy chasing sunlight up a wall<\/span>
like a Lurcher on a scent: the urgent, loud,<\/span>
terrible sensuality of art.  <\/span>



*Ross Cogan<\/span> received a Gregory Award in 1999; his first collection, <\/span>Stalin\u2019s Desk<\/a> <\/span>was published by Oversteps Press. Ross\u2019s poetry and reviews have been published in various journals, including Poetry London, PN Review, The Rialto, Acumen, Stand and Orbis.<\/span>
<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My Life as a Dog.At first I preferred the ones that sprung out whenI lifted lids. The bright flashbulbs of wildgarlic; the fairground ride of engine oil.Opening the gate to a gardenfull of roses was like stepping insidea warm shower. There are still times when I\u2019llslap myself in the face with black pepperor let a […]<\/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-130","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/130","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=130"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/130\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=130"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=130"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=130"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}