<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Municipal Ambition<\/strong><\/p>\n When I think of the neglect. When I think of the bodies I ran from, When I think of the bad love \u2013 When I think of the pangs in windowless rooms, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Amy McCauley<\/strong> currently works as a life model in Stockport and has just completed her MA in Creative Writing at Manchester Metropolitan University. She started her PhD in Aberystwyth in September 2012.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Municipal Ambition When I think of the neglect. The years of untended want gone to waste. My God \u2013 I could go down on my knees and weep. Weep! like a silent movie heroine bathed in the torchlight of pathos, and all my starved orifices would form a chorus of sobs and […]<\/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-3517","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3517","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=3517"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3517\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3519,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3517\/revisions\/3519"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3517"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3517"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3517"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe years of untended want gone to waste.
\nMy God \u2013 I could go down on my knees and weep.
\nWeep! like a silent movie heroine bathed in the torchlight of pathos,
\nand all my starved orifices would form a chorus of sobs
\nand pourforth, sputtering like outside taps.<\/p>\n
\nthrowing myself on the mercy of grass pastures and filthy mattresses.
\nAch, the springs, the bedsits, the landscape miniatures\u2026
\nAnd worst of all the way they sewed me up like a purse
\nso I wouldn\u2019t try and get out again (or in,
\nthey couldn\u2019t decide which).<\/p>\n
\nthe girl who lost it again and again on that patch of municipal lawn,
\nhot sap running down her thighs:
\nthe girl who held herself at arm\u2019s length all her life,
\nwho couldn\u2019t bear to look herself in the eye
\nlet alone love.<\/p>\n
\nthe years of skulduggery and subterfuge,
\nor the telltale stains of fertility (otherwise known as the rites of woman),
\nI could swear it was someone else the whole time.
\nI could scream: Make way for more!
\nMore bad love! More neglect! More pourforth!
\n <\/p>\n