<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Silent Egg Eating<\/strong> pushing our spoons through this beginning stuff, Our scraping joins the Sunday traffic, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Deborah McClean<\/strong> is a teacher from Northern Ireland, but living in Wales and working in England. Writing poetry gives her an excuse to indulge in her favourite past-time: tea guzzling, as she travels from one country to the next.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Silent Egg Eating And all we can hear are the birds, keeping up their incessant conversation, whilst we, war weary and broken, eat eggs in silence; pushing our spoons through this beginning stuff, avoiding eye contact but keeping pace, the salt of our wounds crunches as I tear the white, primal, flesh. […]<\/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-4029","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4029","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=4029"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4029\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4031,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4029\/revisions\/4031"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4029"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4029"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4029"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/span>
\nAnd all we can hear are the birds,
\nkeeping up their incessant conversation,
\nwhilst we, war weary and broken,
\neat eggs in silence;<\/p>\n
\navoiding eye contact but keeping pace,
\nthe salt of our wounds crunches as I tear the white,
\nprimal, flesh.<\/p>\n
\nand all we can hear is the birds,
\nand the words we are still screaming.<\/p>\n