{"id":2243,"date":"2012-04-16T13:38:22","date_gmt":"2012-04-16T13:38:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=2243"},"modified":"2012-04-16T13:38:22","modified_gmt":"2012-04-16T13:38:22","slug":"neil-reeder","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/neil-reeder\/","title":{"rendered":"Neil Reeder"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Quicksand<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>My room is quiet; I\u2019ve woken surreptitiously.<br \/>\nThe day feels early, so ready for sunshine &#8211;<br \/>\nand it must be Saturday, a time with a chance<br \/>\nto wander in woods beneath a patina of leaves;<br \/>\nalong my spine comes a shiver of bliss in freedom,<br \/>\nand slowly recollecting what\u2019s before and what\u2019s ahead,<br \/>\nthere comes the thought:\u00a0 \u2026 &#8220;it\u2019s <em>Thursday<\/em>. Oh \u2026&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The clock says half past five. I cannot sleep.<br \/>\nI lull to random reminiscences:<br \/>\n<em>&#8220;last time I met a man so instantly friendly, <\/em><br \/>\n<em>the ticket he sold me turned out a fake \u2026&#8221;<\/em><br \/>\n<em>&#8220;my name; my name on the internet. In an unknown town<\/em><br \/>\n<em>a duplicate me; with dozens of mourners at my funeral<\/em> \u2026.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Cannot sleep. I twist and turn around in bed, turn around,<br \/>\nquestion myself; fight against inaudible sounds;<br \/>\nmusings on might-have-beens waver and flicker within;<br \/>\nthey flicker; my mind is open, shut, open; blank.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Neil Reeder<\/strong> is a researcher on public services, who lives and works in London. Sometimes a karaoke singer, sometimes an economist, his poems have been published in <em>Equinox, the Rialto<\/em>, and <em>Soul Feathers<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Quicksand My room is quiet; I\u2019ve woken surreptitiously. The day feels early, so ready for sunshine &#8211; and it must be Saturday, a time with a chance to wander in woods beneath a patina of leaves; along my spine comes a shiver of bliss in freedom, and slowly recollecting what\u2019s before and what\u2019s ahead, there [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","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-2243","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2243","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=2243"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2243\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2247,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2243\/revisions\/2247"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2243"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2243"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2243"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}