stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18898
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2018-05-04 09:25:28
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-05-04 09:25:28
    [post_content] => i pass the Nearly on my way to school,
back pressed against the smooth
of a huffing train carriage, slick.

it looks at me from the tops of buildings,
and snakes words on pages until
my fingers suffocate and bleed.

like a row of citrus-thorns, vinegar in sludge,
it traces the waves of voice in air
and runs rat-tat-tat-tat-tat across lungs

imitating the death hum of a sewing machine and forcing me
to leave, or risk choking. darts fast
out of pill-packets and knocks the backs of my eyes,

always the backs of the eyes. i see
the Nearly in books, soft looks, a hand
in my hand (we almost fuse, and I almost

wish that we do, so I can hold them for longer).
it’s hunched on my back and just tucked above
my heart so it can leap when it needs to,

and when it does, i fall into Nearly’s arms,
and he tells me that we’ll be okay.
    [post_title] => i pass the Nearly on my way to school
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => i-pass-the-nearly-on-my-way-to-school
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-08-09 12:11:38
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-08-09 12:11:38
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=18898
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network(YPN) in 2018.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize winner, Nearlyology challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 18889
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Felix Stokes
            [slug] => felix-stokes
            [content] => Felix is the first-prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network, and the third-prize winner of the W. S. Graham challenge as part of Graham’s centenary celebrations.
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18889
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Felix Stokes
    [slug] => felix-stokes
    [content] => Felix is the first-prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network, and the third-prize winner of the W. S. Graham challenge as part of Graham’s centenary celebrations.
)

i pass the Nearly on my way to school

Felix Stokes

i pass the Nearly on my way to school,
back pressed against the smooth
of a huffing train carriage, slick.

it looks at me from the tops of buildings,
and snakes words on pages until
my fingers suffocate and bleed.

like a row of citrus-thorns, vinegar in sludge,
it traces the waves of voice in air
and runs rat-tat-tat-tat-tat across lungs

imitating the death hum of a sewing machine and forcing me
to leave, or risk choking. darts fast
out of pill-packets and knocks the backs of my eyes,

always the backs of the eyes. i see
the Nearly in books, soft looks, a hand
in my hand (we almost fuse, and I almost

wish that we do, so I can hold them for longer).
it’s hunched on my back and just tucked above
my heart so it can leap when it needs to,

and when it does, i fall into Nearly’s arms,
and he tells me that we’ll be okay.