<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Invocation<\/strong><\/p>\n whatever it was \u2013 the slow shutting off As I rinsed beans after your funeral, hearing the drum pulse of a helicopter For several days I breathed on empty, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Rosalind Hudis<\/strong> is an award winning\u00a0Wales based poet. Widely published in journals, she is\u00a0a 2013\u00a0recipient of a New Writer bursary from LiteratureWales Academi. Her debut pamphlet, Terra Ignota<\/em> is available from Rack Press.<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 Rosalind Hudis www.poetrypf.co.uk\u00a0<\/a> Invocation whatever it was \u2013 the slow shutting off of your lighted capillaries, or the currents one by one unplugged between us, whatever stories we route to this aftermath \u2013 I couldn’t disable a sense of you alive in the mortuary, of you struggling to know where you were, to understand the […]<\/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-5972","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5972","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=5972"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5972\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5974,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5972\/revisions\/5974"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5972"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5972"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5972"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nof your lighted capillaries,
\nor the currents one by one unplugged
\nbetween us, whatever stories
\nwe route to this aftermath \u2013
\nI couldn’t disable a sense of you
\nalive in the mortuary, of you struggling
\nto know where you were, to understand
\nthe \u00a0blue brick walls, the absolute cold.<\/p>\n
\nchopped the splayed chicken
\nfor the faithful supper, it wasn’t grief I felt
\nbut faithlessness for being voyeur
\nto this struggle. I wanted to reassemble you,
\nnot as you were, the textbook remembered best,
\n<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0but mind-haul you-in-pain<\/em> across every yard
\nof pavement, invoke us washed by drizzle,
\nswallowing the petroleum tonic of fog,<\/p>\n
\nsomewhere at the city’s edges,
\nname each street, feel the frontal lash
\nof wind on a north corner, bring
\nyour ghost to stand, twist-locked,
\nat my shoulder in the kitchen and I could say
\nthat you were here and this was death.<\/p>\n
\nkept you close, spelled out your traces,
\nthe constellated stains of tea across an atlas
\nyou’d opened for my kids to show the yellow
\nof equators, until my heart settled,
\nfound its level in the wideness filling
\neach page, the receding oceans, deserts.<\/p>\n
\n<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"