<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sunday Morning 3am<\/strong><\/p>\n You haven\u2019t lived until . <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n John Grey<\/strong> is an Australian born poet, works as financial systems analyst in the US. Recently published in International Poetry Review, Chrysalis<\/em> and the science fiction anthology, \u201cFuturedaze<\/em>\u201dwith work upcoming in Potomac Review, Sanskrit <\/em>and Osiris.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sunday Morning 3am You haven\u2019t lived until . you\u2019ve pulled a drunken woman from a car, half-lifted her up a long thin staircase like a sack of coals, dumped the gibberish of her body on a couch, sat back and watched head and body go at each other like punchy fighters. Nothing like […]<\/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-4371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371","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=4371"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4372,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371\/revisions\/4372"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nyou\u2019ve pulled a drunken woman
\nfrom a car,
\nhalf-lifted her up a
\nlong thin staircase
\nlike a sack of coals,
\ndumped the gibberish of her body
\non a couch,
\nsat back and watched
\nhead and body
\ngo at each other
\nlike punchy fighters.
\nNothing like
\nthat curious mix
\nof passion and self-pity,
\nOne minute she wants to tear
\nthe clothes from your body.
\nNext, she\u2019s a burst water-wagon
\nof tears.
\nShe\u2019s sweet then she\u2019s a horror.
\nShe\u2019ll do anything
\nexcept there\u2019s nothing she can do.
\nYou haven\u2019t lived until
\nyou\u2019ve seen someone be
\nall of themselves
\nand then more of themselves.
\nAnd then, in the morning,
\nshe\u2019s so sick and sorry.
\nBut that\u2019s her too.<\/p>\n