<\/p>\n
Sunday, Aberdeen<\/strong><\/p>\n Waking from our final raucous night, Queasily the waves heave, hurling Friday, Saturday, I buy <\/p>\n <\/p>\n A chinese-malaysian living in London,\u00a0 L Kiew<\/strong> earns her living as an accountant. She has completed a part-time MSc in Creative Writing and Literary Studies at Edinburgh University and had poems published recently in Butcher’s Dog, Obsessed with Pipework, <\/i>and Tears in the Fence. <\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sunday, Aberdeen Waking from our final raucous night, there are seagulls, the aftermath of gin, sharp shafts of light scraping across the floor and here I am, shipwrecked, strand-strewn, flotsam sicked up from the seabed. Queasily the waves heave, hurling over Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday; Thursday I practise my scales, narrowing the vowels at the […]<\/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-13666","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13666","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=13666"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13666\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13990,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13666\/revisions\/13990"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13666"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13666"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13666"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthere are seagulls, the aftermath of gin, sharp
\nshafts of light scraping across the floor
\nand here I am, shipwrecked,
\nstrand-strewn, flotsam
\nsicked up from the seabed.<\/p>\n
\nover Monday, Tuesday,
\nWednesday; Thursday
\nI practise my scales, narrowing
\nthe vowels at the passagio.
\nSongs freeze at forty below.<\/p>\n
\nthe rain hat I was looking for;
\nit flops like a wet cod fillet.
\nAt five, the North Sea weeps gold;
\nwhat remains is granite, the blues
\nand, silver-cold, the Sunday horizon \u2013<\/p>\n