stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 22767
[post_author] => 37
[post_date] => 2022-04-06 14:37:34
[post_date_gmt] => 2022-04-06 14:37:34
[post_content] =>
Jessica types secretarially fast.
*
She walks to the mailbox like a boss.
*
The langoustine of the morning is occupied by her preparations.
*
She makes a killer tuna salad for the Fourth of July picnic.
*
Also, her knowledge is vast as a flatbread.
*
*Knowledge of murder.
*
Jessica walks down to Main Street like a pelican.
*
Her hair is like a certain Asian foodstuff (pork floss).
*
The picnic is in full swing.
*
If someone were to be killed, Jessica would never be suspected.
*
The catamaran of sunset thuddingly docks.
*
Jessica quizzes the mayor perkily (about fireworks).
*
She uses her powers of logic like a crab pinching its neighbours – ouch.
*
Surprisingly, no one is murdered during the fireworks.
*
*Technically speaking.
*
Jessica wakes up the next day like a creamy soup base.
*
She types and types but she can’t remember (what happened yesterday).
*
Also, the police are coming.
*
Jessica’s voice is wobbly as an egg (for no reason).
*
Her thoughts are like kidnap victims being kept in a cellar.
*
*The converted basement of her mind.
[post_title] => Murder, She Wrote
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => murder-she-wrote
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2022-04-12 16:02:55
[post_modified_gmt] => 2022-04-12 16:02:55
[post_content_filtered] =>
[post_parent] => 0
[guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=22767
[menu_order] => 0
[post_type] => poems
[post_mime_type] =>
[comment_count] => 0
[filter] => raw
[meta_data] => stdClass Object
(
[wpcf-published-in] => The Poetry Review
[wpcf-date-published] => The Poetry Review, spring issue, 2022.
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem was published in The Poetry Review, spring issue, 2022.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] =>
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 1097
[forename] => Jane
[surname] => Yeh
[title] => Jane Yeh
[slug] => jane-yeh
[content] => Jane Yeh has published three collections with Carcanet, Marabou (2005, which was shortlisted for the Whitbread Poetry Award, the Forward Prize for Best First Collection and the Jerwood Aldeburgh First Collection Prize), The Ninjas (2012) and Discipline (2019). Yeh was commended in the National Poetry Competition 2009 and named as a Next Generation Poet in 2014 by the Poetry Book Society.
)
)
stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 1097
[forename] => Jane
[surname] => Yeh
[title] => Jane Yeh
[slug] => jane-yeh
[content] => Jane Yeh has published three collections with Carcanet, Marabou (2005, which was shortlisted for the Whitbread Poetry Award, the Forward Prize for Best First Collection and the Jerwood Aldeburgh First Collection Prize), The Ninjas (2012) and Discipline (2019). Yeh was commended in the National Poetry Competition 2009 and named as a Next Generation Poet in 2014 by the Poetry Book Society.
)
Jessica types secretarially fast.
*
She walks to the mailbox like a boss.
*
The langoustine of the morning is occupied by her preparations.
*
She makes a killer tuna salad for the Fourth of July picnic.
*
Also, her knowledge is vast as a flatbread.
*
*Knowledge of murder.
*
Jessica walks down to Main Street like a pelican.
*
Her hair is like a certain Asian foodstuff (pork floss).
*
The picnic is in full swing.
*
If someone were to be killed, Jessica would never be suspected.
*
The catamaran of sunset thuddingly docks.
*
Jessica quizzes the mayor perkily (about fireworks).
*
She uses her powers of logic like a crab pinching its neighbours – ouch.
*
Surprisingly, no one is murdered during the fireworks.
*
*Technically speaking.
*
Jessica wakes up the next day like a creamy soup base.
*
She types and types but she can’t remember (what happened yesterday).
*
Also, the police are coming.
*
Jessica’s voice is wobbly as an egg (for no reason).
*
Her thoughts are like kidnap victims being kept in a cellar.
*
*The converted basement of her mind.
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