<\/p>\n
Stranger<\/strong><\/p>\n This is the cry that hollows the walls, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Daniel Pearson<\/strong> is originally from Sunderland and studied English Literature at Lancaster University. After spending several years living in Canada, New Zealand, and Australia he now lives in Cardiff.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Stranger This is the cry that hollows the walls, that shrinks like evening Primrose clicking on window frames, rapping out the ticks of post-nocturnal gloom, the accepted hour of life. It is afraid its words are meaningless, rattling the bannisters umbral enunciation that swam, amphibious and strange in its meticulous waddle to land, glassy […]<\/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-14827","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14827","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=14827"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14827\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15209,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14827\/revisions\/15209"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14827"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14827"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14827"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthat shrinks like evening Primrose
\nclicking on window frames, rapping
\nout the ticks of post-nocturnal gloom,
\nthe accepted hour of life. It is afraid
\nits words are meaningless, rattling
\nthe bannisters
\numbral enunciation<\/span>
\nthat swam, amphibious and strange
\nin its meticulous waddle to land,
\nglassy eyes suspended, the black
\nhearts of them quivering frogspawn.
\nThis is the queer, ribbitting chalice
\nwebbed in the throat, the blank cry
\nthat shakes in its paperloose skin.<\/p>\n