<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
New Orleans<\/strong><\/p>\n In a room above the streets he paints. He wants to touch her. He knows that after this <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Hannah Silva<\/strong> has performed at festivals including Latitude, the Edinburgh Fringe and Stanza. She is currently directing her play The Disappearance of Sadie Jones<\/em> and touring The Total Man<\/em> with Electronic Voice Phenomena. Her poems are published in anthologies by Penned in the Margins and Bloodaxe. This is her blog<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" New Orleans In a room above the streets he paints. He paints a corpse on the ground and a musician on a rooftop. He dips his brush into water and sees dead bodies, floating to the surface. He remembers that someone once said: \u201cGod help us.\u201d In his lost mind, politicians cut […]<\/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-4927","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4927","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=4927"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4927\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4931,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4927\/revisions\/4931"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4927"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4927"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4927"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nHe paints a corpse on the ground
\nand a musician on a rooftop. He dips his brush
\ninto water and sees dead bodies, floating
\nto the surface. He remembers that someone
\nonce said: \u201cGod help us.\u201d In his lost mind, politicians
\ncut the throats of babies. A helicopter doesn\u2019t stop,
\nwith a brush stroke, he sends the cop to hell.
\nIn a dab of white paint a bunch of flowers falls \u2013
\nhangs suspended, gravity abandoned
\nadorns a mass grave while a woman sings:
\nYo soy la desintegraci\u00f3n<\/p>\n
\nthere is no more contact, no more belief.<\/p>\n