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What A Soul Is \u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n One night I killed a dove the cat had maimed, then buried it in a tea towel beneath the hedge <\/strong><\/p>\n Andy S. Barritt<\/strong> is an East http:\/\/ugateamunited.com\/online\/lamisil\/<\/a> Midlands based poet interested in describing bright instants just slightly widdershins of the everyday. He has had pieces published in various journals, both nationally (3:AM, Antiphon, Ink Sweat & Tears<\/em>) and internationally (Shotglass Journal, The Prose-Poem Project<\/em>), and was shortlisted in the 2013 Nottingham Festival of Words Flash Fiction Competition.\u00a0 This is his website. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" What A Soul Is \u2026 One night I killed a dove the cat had maimed, pressed its pitted breath from peach-soft feathers until my hands wouldn\u2019t unclench for days, then buried it in a tea towel beneath the hedge where tongues of poisoner\u2019s rose would grow, pushing aside the brick I\u2019d left […]<\/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-6518","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6518","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=6518"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6518\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6521,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6518\/revisions\/6521"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6518"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6518"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6518"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\npressed its pitted breath from peach-soft feathers
\nuntil my hands wouldn\u2019t unclench for days,<\/p>\n
\nwhere tongues of poisoner\u2019s rose would grow,
\npushing aside the brick I\u2019d left to keep foxes away<\/p>\n
\n<\/a><\/p>\n