{"id":34621,"date":"2017-08-05T14:15:29","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T18:15:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=34621"},"modified":"2017-08-05T14:15:29","modified_gmt":"2017-08-05T18:15:29","slug":"spitballs-and-evergreens","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/spitballs-and-evergreens\/","title":{"rendered":"Spitballs and Evergreens"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Spitballs and Evergreens<br \/>\nVCS <\/p>\n<p>Wrapped in torn remnants<br \/>\nOf papers<br \/>\nWith names and places<br \/>\nMost of which mean nothing to me<br \/>\nThey have stuck to me<br \/>\nLike spitballs<br \/>\nCast by naughty children<br \/>\nSitting bored<br \/>\nAt the back of math class<br \/>\nImmobilizing me<br \/>\nPumping me full of immortal resin<br \/>\nMy soul pushed and pulled<br \/>\nIn a stream of paperwork<br \/>\nI didn&#8217;t start<br \/>\nWith a zip code written<br \/>\nOn my DNA that branded me<br \/>\nBefore I was made to order<br \/>\nLike a homunculus with no purpose of my own<br \/>\nFull of amber sap dripping from evergreen trees<br \/>\nBuried under the earth<br \/>\nI ring my bell<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still not dead<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still not dead<br \/>\nI ring my bell<br \/>\nFrom my tomb<br \/>\nEncased in my mummy suit<br \/>\nmade from ancient scrolls<br \/>\nI never read<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still not dead<br \/>\nI ring my bell<br \/>\nMy soul is my own<br \/>\nI did not choose to speak<br \/>\nYet I must<br \/>\nI will not be an Immortal Buddha<br \/>\nAnd once more I rip off these<br \/>\nscabs of paper and emerge newborn<br \/>\nfrom the grave you&#8217;ve already dug for me<br \/>\nBecause I&#8217;m still not dead<br \/>\nI walk the earth<br \/>\nI ring my bell<br \/>\nI sing my song<br \/>\nI will not drink the poison<br \/>\nThe evergreen is ever dead<br \/>\nBut I am not<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still not dead<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still only just a new born<br \/>\nRinging my bell<br \/>\nAs my cry to the universe. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Spitballs and Evergreens VCS Wrapped in torn remnants Of papers With names and places Most of which mean nothing to me They have stuck to me Like spitballs Cast by naughty children Sitting bored At the back of math class Immobilizing me Pumping me full&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[2228,52],"class_list":["post-34621","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-2017poetrymarathon","tag-virginia-carraway-stark"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34621","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34621"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34621\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34739,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34621\/revisions\/34739"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34621"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34621"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34621"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}