{"id":162,"date":"2011-02-09T21:55:57","date_gmt":"2011-02-09T21:55:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=162"},"modified":"2012-03-31T12:55:15","modified_gmt":"2012-03-31T12:55:15","slug":"lynn-woollacott-is-watching-the-coal-fire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/lynn-woollacott-is-watching-the-coal-fire\/","title":{"rendered":"Lynn Woollacott is watching the coal fire"},"content":{"rendered":"

Slice<\/span>
\u00a0<\/span>
In the belly of the coal fire<\/span>
sizzling amongst the red and orange flames<\/span>
is a slice from a sheep shed<\/span>
squared to the size of a piece of bread,<\/span>
a pink liver shaken by an iron hand.<\/span>
\u00a0<\/span>
Just that afternoon her fingers had been teats<\/span>
on which the school lamb suckled and<\/span>
dribbled milk down his woolly bib, he<\/span>
rolled his thick tongue and she dug<\/span>
in a herbivore jaw and found a gold nugget,<\/span>
she took the gold and carried it on her thumb.<\/span>
\u00a0<\/span>
The red square dribbles like a wound<\/span>
as it\u2019s placed on a white slab<\/span>
and there\u2019s no other dressing except<\/span>
a second slab slapped on top.<\/span>
The sharp point of the stab bleeds<\/span>
with the last seesaw cut of a knife.<\/span>

\n

*Lynn Woollacott<\/span> freelances teaching environmental studies where she is able pond dip, rummage amongst woodland insects and race crabs on the beach to her heart\u2019s content. She has been published regularly in the small press magazines, including Poetry News and Featured Poet in Orbis.\u00a0 ‘Slice’ is taken from her first collection <\/span>Something and Nothing<\/span><\/a> which has just been released from <\/span>Indigo Dreams<\/a>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Slice\u00a0In the belly of the coal firesizzling amongst the red and orange flamesis a slice from a sheep shedsquared to the size of a piece of bread,a pink liver shaken by an iron hand.\u00a0Just that afternoon her fingers had been teatson which the school lamb suckled anddribbled milk down his woolly bib, herolled his thick […]<\/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-162","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162","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=162"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1880,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162\/revisions\/1880"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=162"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=162"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=162"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}