<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Rabbit Must Be Saved<\/strong><\/p>\n The man in the shallow trench leans on one elbow. The man wants the rabbit dead; The man takes a stone. Far on the horizon is a house. Contained inside are beautiful women. They float to the windows, eye-side to the dark One swims to the couch. Will you save the rabbit?<\/p>\n While you are thinking about your answer, The man laughs at the stick in your hands. Plant your feet. <\/p>\n Jo Mariner<\/strong>: Coming back to poetry after years of corporate communications. Never left really, but too worn while in the fray. Hopeful now and thinking hope is one thing poems can do. Hope for what? Not everything is understood, labelled, safe.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Rabbit Must Be Saved The man in the shallow trench leans on one elbow. The white rabbit shines, a helpless little moon in barren midnight. The man wants the rabbit dead; the rabbit cannot die from stares for it does not understand hate. The man takes a stone. the stone is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","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-5046","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5046","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=5046"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5046\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5048,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5046\/revisions\/5048"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5046"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5046"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5046"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe white rabbit shines,
\na helpless little moon in barren midnight.<\/p>\n
\nthe rabbit cannot die from stares
\nfor it does not understand hate.<\/p>\n
\nthe stone is small, falls short.
\nThe man lifts a head-sized rock.<\/p>\n
\nVerandas open like friendly hands.
\nIncandescent lamps warm the dark.<\/p>\n
\ncirculating like fish, unperturbed,
\nnot needing the oceans around the world.<\/p>\n
\nwhere the man, his rock, and arm are cocked like a catapault.
\nThey see nothing.<\/p>\n
\nAnother straightens the magazines.
\nA third ascends to sleep.<\/p>\n
\nyou see you are already there:
\noutside, standing over the man.<\/p>\n
\ndrops his weapon, grabs you.
\nYou feel his morbid weight.<\/p>\n
\nThis is not about a rabbit.<\/p>\n