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A meeting of minds<\/strong><\/p>\n You said you preferred Orwell\u2019s essays. I said – I preferred his moustache.<\/p>\n You said your first memory was of screaming: I said – The Rockford Files<\/p>\n You said what moved you was a child\u2019s pale face. I said \u2013 I was that guy.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Kris Thain<\/strong> lives in a seaside town that forgot to close down, and often takes advantage of that. The desolate shoreline is a great inspiration for knocking out a few poems. He web-designs by day, he web-designs by night and hopes one day to stop the night part and live a “normal” life.\u00a0\u00a0 He is 40 odd. He has had poems published in Other Poetry, Snakeskin, Orbis<\/em> and a few lesser known local publications.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A meeting of minds You said you preferred Orwell\u2019s essays. The way they lulled you into a sense of the plain, transcending any given ideology often whilst condemning or praising it. I said – I preferred his moustache. You said your first memory was of screaming: Yowling, uttering your brutal stages of […]<\/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-4719","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4719","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=4719"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4719\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4722,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4719\/revisions\/4722"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4719"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4719"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4719"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe way they lulled you into a sense
\nof the plain, transcending any given ideology
\noften whilst condemning or praising it.<\/p>\n
\nYowling, uttering your brutal stages of advance
\ndazed from the drop, finding your voice, or not;
\nImages flocking like birds of Assisi\u2026<\/p>\n
\nA garden at night after a party, a wine glass
\nblood-red with cigarette debris, and a guy
\nno-one knows stroking a dog.<\/p>\n