<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A Noise Affair<\/strong><\/p>\n The quiet is in here somewhere, surely.<\/p>\n The child with the hammer For his coin in a fountain, Some words turn the corner of the block A cool wind is akin to a sigh.<\/p>\n The earth has a pulse – when all else fails.<\/p>\n To hear from somebody, Street-workers know only the one way – The tiny things that are Clip-clop. People moving do it all the time.<\/p>\n A cell phone rings and everybody answers.<\/p>\n A runner is so fast, New secrets are whispered. A solitary man <\/p>\n <\/p>\n John Grey<\/strong> is an Australian born poet. Recently published in Oyez Review, Rockhurst Review<\/em> and Spindrift<\/em> with work upcoming in New Plains Review, Big Muddy Review, Willow Review <\/em>and Louisiana Literature.\u00a0 \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A Noise Affair The quiet is in here somewhere, surely. The child with the hammer is taking anything it can grab in its tiny hands and smashing it. For his coin in a fountain, a would-be lover gets a loud watery spray. Some words turn the corner of the block and are […]<\/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-8375","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8375","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=8375"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8375\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8377,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8375\/revisions\/8377"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8375"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8375"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8375"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nis taking anything it can grab
\nin its tiny hands and smashing it.<\/p>\n
\na would-be lover
\ngets a loud watery spray.<\/p>\n
\nand are never spoken again.<\/p>\n
\nan old woman ripples
\nthe wrinkles of her skin.<\/p>\n
\nshout over machinery.<\/p>\n
\nin various stages of becoming
\ncan be listened to with great effort,
\ndisproportionate desire.<\/p>\n
\nhe’s ten yards ahead of his own voice.<\/p>\n
\nOld ones are shouted.
\nSome people meet
\nand only the eyes speak.<\/p>\n
\nwrites all of this down.
\nHis pen squeaks.<\/p>\n