<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Contraflow<\/strong><\/p>\n Asleep under a ceiling of bird wings. On a chair in the corner Across the floor, anchored fronds Fifty miles east of Brazil A ripple through architecture of feather and bone.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Mark Ryan Smith<\/strong> lives in the Shetland Islands<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Contraflow Asleep under a ceiling of bird wings. Some distance off, gaps in the clattering of gulls. A lick of salt in the mouth of the river. On a chair in the corner a medium and her cornflour ectoplasm stretches slick globs in the alarm clock\u2019s light. It\u2019s the middle of 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-17102","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17102","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=17102"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17102\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17103,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17102\/revisions\/17103"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17102"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17102"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17102"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nSome distance off, gaps
\nin the clattering of gulls.
\nA lick of salt
\nin the mouth of the river.<\/p>\n
\na medium and her cornflour
\nectoplasm stretches slick globs
\nin the alarm clock\u2019s light.
\nIt\u2019s the middle of the night.
\nThe river reaches in.<\/p>\n
\nwith tiny curling claws.
\nSwamp smell of fertilizer.
\nSperm from deepwater vents. Pustules of rust
\nhollow pockmarks in the hull of the Lusitania.<\/p>\n
\na rush of migrating Arctic Terns
\nfeel for a turn in the wind.<\/p>\n