{"id":835,"date":"2021-03-25T12:47:45","date_gmt":"2021-03-25T12:47:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johntownshend.com\/wordpress\/the-bed-a-poem-with-no-rhyme-nor-reason-nor-discernible-rhythm-by-john-townshend\/"},"modified":"2021-03-25T12:47:45","modified_gmt":"2021-03-25T12:47:45","slug":"the-bed-a-poem-with-no-rhyme-nor-reason-nor-discernible-rhythm-by-john-townshend","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/the-bed-a-poem-with-no-rhyme-nor-reason-nor-discernible-rhythm-by-john-townshend\/","title":{"rendered":"The Bed: a poem with no rhyme nor reason nor discernible rhythm. By John Townshend"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Cold winds blow through my wide open window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Freezing in this moment; I look and listen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">You\u2019re asleep. Outspoken in your dream. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">An electric shiver up my back. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">A foot kicks out. A cat climbs on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Floating uphill I have been taken by the night. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">A technicolour sky and bright green grass. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The tightrope bridge falls and I with it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The cat jumps down. You\u2019ve farted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Cold winds blow through my wide open window. Freezing in this moment; I look and listen. You\u2019re asleep. Outspoken in your dream. An electric shiver up my back. A foot kicks out. A cat climbs on. Floating uphill I have been taken by the night. A technicolour sky and bright green grass. The tightrope bridge &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/the-bed-a-poem-with-no-rhyme-nor-reason-nor-discernible-rhythm-by-john-townshend\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">The Bed: a poem with no rhyme nor reason nor discernible rhythm. By John Townshend<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-835","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poems"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/835","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=835"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/835\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=835"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=835"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jwt.quest\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=835"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}