{"id":1330,"date":"2008-01-22T12:36:59","date_gmt":"2008-01-22T20:36:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/?p=1330"},"modified":"2008-01-22T12:36:59","modified_gmt":"2008-01-22T20:36:59","slug":"lorca-and-the-spaces-that-ache","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/lorca-and-the-spaces-that-ache\/","title":{"rendered":"Lorca and the spaces that ache"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>One of my favourite lines of poetry ever written is contained in this surreal poem from Frederico Garcia Lorca. \u00a0 I remember reading the final stanza for the first time maybe ten years ago and it shook me.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p><strong>Intermission<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Those eyes of mine from 1910<br \/>\nsaw no dead man buried,<br \/>\nno ashen fairs of mourners at dawn,<br \/>\nno heart quivering in its corner like a sea horse.<\/p>\n<p>Those eyes of mine from 1910<br \/>\nsaw only the pale wall where the girls tinkled,<br \/>\nthe snout of the bull, the poisonous mushroom,<br \/>\nand the incomprehensible moon that illuminated dried lemon rinds<br \/>\nunder the hard black bottles in the corners.<\/p>\n<p>Those eyes of mine on the neck of the pony,<br \/>\non the pierced breast of the sleeping Saint Rosa,<br \/>\non the tiled rooftops of love, with moans and fresh hands,<br \/>\non a garden where cats ate the frogs.<\/p>\n<p>Attic where the ancient dust congregates statues and mosses,<br \/>\nboxes that keep the silence of devoured crabs<br \/>\nin the place where the dream squabbled with its reality.<br \/>\nMy small eyes are there.<\/p>\n<p>Don&#8217;t ask me any questions. I have seen how things<br \/>\nthat seek their way find the void instead.<br \/>\nThere are spaces that ache in the uninhabited air<br \/>\nand in my eyes only children dressed without their nakedness!<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>One of my favourite lines of poetry ever written is contained in this surreal poem from Frederico Garcia Lorca. \u00a0 I remember reading the final stanza for the first time maybe ten years ago and it shook me. Intermission Those eyes of mine from 1910 saw no dead man buried, no ashen fairs of mourners at dawn, no heart quivering in its corner like a sea horse. Those eyes of mine from 1910 saw only the pale wall where the girls tinkled, the snout of the bull, the poisonous mushroom, and the incomprehensible moon that illuminated dried lemon rinds under &#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"_wpas_customize_per_network":false},"categories":[24],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1330","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/piBp1-ls","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1330","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1330"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1330\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1330"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1330"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chriscorrigan.com\/parkinglot\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1330"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}