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Sglyfath<\/strong><\/p>\n My father’s tongue flicked the fiery Welsh; Fires of defiance dowsed by drink on both sides – <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Brett Evans<\/strong> lives, writes, and drinks in his native north Wales. His poetry pamphlets The Devil’s Tattoo<\/em> (2015) and Sloth and the Art of Self-deprecation<\/a><\/em> (2018) are both published by Indigo Dreams. Brett is co-editor of Prole.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sglyfath My father’s tongue flicked the fiery Welsh; I flicked two fingers back at him and\u00a0ancestry. Assaults, volleys, skirmishes, stormed fortresses; ignorant oppression, futile wars for independence. Siarad Cymraeg?\u00a0Fuck off, Nain. Fuck off, Taid. Fires of defiance dowsed by drink on both sides – the plain set for the final conflict, this […]<\/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-18415","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18415","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=18415"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18415\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18581,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18415\/revisions\/18581"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18415"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18415"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18415"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nI flicked two fingers back at him and\u00a0ancestry.
\nAssaults, volleys, skirmishes, stormed fortresses;
\nignorant oppression, futile wars for independence.
\nSiarad Cymraeg?\u00a0Fuck off, Nain. Fuck off, Taid.<\/p>\n
\nthe plain set for the final conflict, this hospice bed.
\nLids hide the eyes of the beast though I\u00a0count coup:
\none clasped, clammy hand, a cold kiss\u00a0on cool brow,
\nand fingers placed where a pulse\u00a0should beat
\nlike dragon wings. But there’s nothing\u00a0Welsh
\nunless still\u00a0deep within the marrow.<\/p>\n