<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
His Arms were Cold and Red<\/strong><\/p>\n When he lowered in the fish, We knew how foolish he felt; It would have been better <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Matthew Davis<\/b> is 33 and lives in Prestwich, Manchester. He started writing 12 months ago and submits poems for publication to avoid foisting them on friends.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" His Arms were Cold and Red When he lowered in the fish, they sank belatedly, like coins and just sat there on the plastic liner waiting for night or the first algae to cover their piebald backs. We knew how foolish he felt; he stopped using the patio. We drank instead, watching 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-18370","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18370","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=18370"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18370\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18399,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18370\/revisions\/18399"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18370"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18370"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18370"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthey sank
\nbelatedly, like coins and
\njust sat there
\non the plastic liner
\nwaiting for night
\nor the first algae
\nto cover their piebald backs.<\/p>\n
\nhe stopped using the patio.
\nWe drank instead, watching
\nthe news and american sitcoms.
\nDad\u2019s theory;
\nthe fish were impaired,
\nbred in a garden centre
\nthat once held POWs.
\nImprinted, he said.<\/p>\n
\nfor a crow to take them.
\nDrop some blood orange
\nscales on the drive.<\/p>\n