<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In this room<\/strong><\/p>\n You walk in here You walk in here Time scurries under beds Here only the routine Space expands Here we live On this small stage In this room<\/p>\n it\u2019s kill or cure.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Nick Carding<\/strong> is an Englishman now living in Croatia. Most recently his work has appeared in Orbis<\/i>, <\/i>Allegro<\/i> and Ink Sweat & Tears, <\/i>as well as in various publications in the USA.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In this room You walk in here (if you can walk) and see the faces turning eyes sliding over yours slipping away assessments made a future told in indifferent glances. You walk in here and lose your place. Time scurries under beds hides in corners seeking sanctuary wherever darkness is minutes are […]<\/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-18701","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18701","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=18701"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18701\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18809,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18701\/revisions\/18809"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18701"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18701"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18701"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n(if you can walk)
\nand see the faces turning
\neyes sliding over yours
\nslipping away
\nassessments made
\na future told
\nin indifferent glances.<\/p>\n
\nand lose your place.<\/p>\n
\nhides in corners
\nseeking sanctuary
\nwherever darkness is
\nminutes are hours
\ndays an aeon
\nor a moment
\ngone before you notice.<\/p>\n
\nremains inviolate.<\/p>\n
\ncontracts at will
\nat night as infinite
\nas all those hours
\nsqueezed by day
\nto claustrophobia
\nthe press of bodies
\nstretching only tolerance.<\/p>\n
\nand partly live.<\/p>\n
\nwe pirouette
\nour puppet choreography
\nof pain and boredom
\nthe music made
\nby medicine men
\na hope for wholeness
\npulling strings.<\/p>\n