<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Polling Day<\/strong><\/p>\n I watched the way you fogged up I heard the way you wrote off the I noted the way you wheezed; came I saw the way you laid your plans <\/p>\n <\/p>\n John Kay<\/strong> was born in Bury and now works in Bournemouth. Winner\u00a0of poetry\u00a0competitions. Represented in anthologies and poetry magazines. One volume of poetry, It Wouldn’t Do,<\/em> 2008.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Polling Day I watched the way you fogged up our front room, filling the ash trays and drinking dad\u2019s whisky, (when it wasn\u2019t even Christmas). I heard the way you wrote off the opposition; Labour, the crook; Liberal, the nancy; and little Mark\u2019s dad, not just a communist, but a teacher. I […]<\/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-18666","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18666","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=18666"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18666\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18738,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18666\/revisions\/18738"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18666"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18666"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18666"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nour front room, filling the ash trays
\nand drinking dad\u2019s whisky,
\n(when it wasn\u2019t even Christmas).<\/p>\n
\nopposition; Labour, the crook; Liberal,
\nthe nancy; and little Mark\u2019s dad,
\nnot just a communist, but a teacher.<\/p>\n
\nand went as you pleased; stuck up
\nposters in our front window;
\nCommittee Room; Vote for Kay;<\/p>\n
\nover our dinner table; ruling lines
\nthrough entire households,
\nafter I\u2019d surrendered the numbers.<\/p>\n