{"id":918,"date":"2010-12-07T18:56:00","date_gmt":"2010-12-07T18:56:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=918"},"modified":"2010-12-07T18:56:00","modified_gmt":"2010-12-07T18:56:00","slug":"ben-rasnic-is-snow-blind","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/ben-rasnic-is-snow-blind\/","title":{"rendered":"Ben Rasnic is snow-blind"},"content":{"rendered":"
            SNOW-BLIND<\/span>
<\/font><\/div>\n



            In early April<\/span>
            an arctic storm<\/span>
            is spilling snowflakes.<\/span>

            She peels away the sheets<\/span>
            and slips toward the kitchen;<\/span>
            silk robe gliding<\/span>
            gently to the floor.<\/span>

            The tea kettle screams<\/span>
            with hot wet steam;<\/span>
            ceramic coffee cups spiked <\/span>
            with Morning Thunder and cinnamon sticks.<\/span>

            I wipe the windowpane fog,<\/span>
            watch seagulls wing thru crystal mist.<\/span>

            Neighbors busy with shovels,    <\/span>
            carpool for groceries;<\/span>
            tire tracks tattooing the glazed asphalt.<\/span>

            Rust colored snowplow scrapes like a razor blade<\/span>
            tapering white granular lines<\/span>
            across a glass tabletop.<\/span>

            The world keeps spinning its wheels<\/span>
            while we patiently explore<\/span>
            the familiar contours of flesh and bone.<\/span>
            <\/span>
            Snow-blind, I bury my face<\/span>
            in the crest of her thighs,<\/span>
            her fingernails carving slaloms<\/span>
            down the slope of my back.<\/span>

            Soft plush<\/span>
            of thick white down<\/span>
            swells beyond our horizons;<\/span>

            white powder<\/span>
            consuming the landscape;<\/span>
            consuming everything.    <\/span>



* Ben Rasnic<\/span> lives in Maryland, works in Virginia, drives the Capital Beltway on a daily basis and is not surprised by anything he sees along the way.

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

            SNOW-BLIND             In early April            an arctic storm            is spilling snowflakes.            She peels away the sheets            and slips toward the kitchen;            silk robe gliding            gently to the floor.            The tea kettle screams            with hot wet steam;   […]<\/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-918","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/918","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=918"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/918\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=918"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=918"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=918"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}