<\/p>\n
You play the chain game! But will it protect you against rust? Richard James<\/strong> is an unpublished poet from near Colchester, currently not working in a literary occupation. He has been reading poetry since college, and has been writing poetry for five years. He enjoys experimenting with as wide a variety of forms as possible.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Chain Game You play the chain game! But will it protect you against rust? The indicators on the side indicate your time is crunching into a vile twist, so no. Little else is going on where the axle meets the gentle slope of her neck. Still the water runs off its back, […]<\/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-14735","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14735","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=14735"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14735\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14737,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14735\/revisions\/14737"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14735"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14735"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14735"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe Chain Game<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nThe indicators on the side indicate your time is crunching into
\na vile twist, so no. Little else is going on where the axle meets
\nthe gentle slope of her neck. Still the water runs off its back,
\nevery day meaning rust is perpetual. There, did you see it slip?
\nFeed it through the mechanism. There, it slipped again. Fixation
\nis the special game of attention and I’m losing it badly. Still,
\nstill. That’s the white spirit coming out again, stinking up the
\ngarden. Other neighbours poke their nobbly heads over low
\nwalls, squatting to look down on me. All that I can do (there’s
\nanother slip) is to wave coyly at the panoramic gaze. If a few heads
\ncan solve a problem like the stench of chemical, threat to the first
\nand only day of Summer (eh?) then the collective ought to make the
\nchain work. Still, it leaks flakes rubbing against the cog. My hands
\nhave stains because (who knew) but it’s wet metal. Finding it hard to
\nconcentrate and there, I slipped again. My audience are whispering
\nbetween themselves. Where I laughed up confidence, the false butterfly
\ncaught in my throat. They were snooty, now they’re Eidolons of Judgement
\nand that was the fatal slip. They cackle waves of physical shock on the
\nlone boy and the bicycle. The amber links tore my palm across,
\nand I flashed a thought (brazenly) of The Baptism. That was wrong,
\nthe true fact of the situation was a death trap coated in blood.
\nI scrabble backward on my knees and lock her out there.<\/p>\n