{"id":881,"date":"2010-11-11T19:12:54","date_gmt":"2010-11-11T19:12:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=881"},"modified":"2010-11-11T19:12:54","modified_gmt":"2010-11-11T19:12:54","slug":"frances-atkins-cant-face-the-apple-crumble","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/frances-atkins-cant-face-the-apple-crumble\/","title":{"rendered":"Frances Atkins can't face the apple crumble"},"content":{"rendered":"

Angela Greynor, Recently Gone<\/span>
 <\/span>

Walking through the door,<\/span>
I know this isn\u2019t our kitchen.<\/span>
 <\/span>
Your phone is on the counter,<\/span>
my coat hung up on the back door.<\/span>
 <\/span>
Maybe I can\u2019t recognise, not anymore.<\/span>
It\u2019s warm as I look down;<\/span>
 <\/span>
an apple crumble is browning in our oven.<\/span>
I never learnt to bake.<\/span>
 <\/span>
To leave it would be a cremation,<\/span>
but taking it out means choices \u2013<\/span>
 <\/span>
can I eat the last warm piece of you?<\/span>
Touching your chair I scowled at,<\/span>
 <\/span>
I ask for a hug but it won\u2019t turn around.<\/span>
I crumple on the tiles you said were the perfect touch.<\/span>
 <\/span>
My hand tries to squeeze them but scratches.<\/span>
Tears fall to splashes whilst I think<\/span>
 <\/span>
\u201cWhat about the rest of the house?\u201d<\/span>
Crawling through the door,<\/span>
 <\/span>
I know this isn\u2019t our home, just mine,<\/span>
only not even mine anymore.<\/span>


* Frances Atkins<\/span> is a twenty-two year old MA Creative Writing student, currently living in Exeter, UK. Her poems have previously been published is student-run magazines and she hopes to widen her readership in the coming years. She has a special interest in Canadian modernist poetry after living there for six months and more of her work can be found at <\/span>http:\/\/francesatkinspoetry.blogspot.com\/<\/a>

<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Angela Greynor, Recently Gone Walking through the door,I know this isn\u2019t our kitchen. Your phone is on the counter,my coat hung up on the back door. Maybe I can\u2019t recognise, not anymore.It\u2019s warm as I look down; an apple crumble is browning in our oven.I never learnt to bake. To leave it would be a cremation,but taking it out means […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","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-881","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/881","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\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=881"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/881\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=881"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=881"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=881"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}