<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Cash Feus<\/strong><\/p>\n Everything is covered with dust or dustsheets. its late occupants, drift through what were once Five days a week, we\u2019re visited by people All our possessions have been replaced <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Henry King<\/strong> has published poems and translations in Stand, PN Review, A Bird Is Not a Stone<\/em>\u00a0(Glasgow: Freight 2014)\u00a0New Poetries V\u00a0(Manchester: Carcanet 2011) and elsewhere. He teaches at the University of Glasgow. This is his blog:\u00a0 henrymking.blogspot.co.uk <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Cash Feus Everything is covered with dust or dustsheets. The armchairs look like ghosts of themselves, only suitable for ghosts to sit in. This is no abode for the living, and we, its late occupants, drift through what were once solid walls, moaning softly because we can find little more than ashes […]<\/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-8669","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8669","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=8669"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8669\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8673,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8669\/revisions\/8673"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8669"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8669"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8669"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe armchairs look like ghosts of themselves,
\nonly suitable for ghosts to sit in.
\nThis is no abode for the living, and we,<\/p>\n
\nsolid walls, moaning softly because we can find
\nlittle more than ashes to eat, the spider
\nthe only one here with a well-stocked larder.<\/p>\n
\nwhose blood is still warm. As they work, they listen
\nto the radio: its voices are far clearer
\nand louder than ours. Our presence hardly disturbs them.<\/p>\n
\nwith tools we can\u2019t use, papers we\u2019d never normally
\nbe seen dead reading. We\u2019re revenants, as much in need
\nof renovation as the house we\u2019re haunting.<\/p>\n