{"id":32,"date":"2009-04-11T21:01:01","date_gmt":"2009-04-12T04:01:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/?p=32"},"modified":"2009-04-11T21:01:01","modified_gmt":"2009-04-12T04:01:01","slug":"rooms","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/?p=32","title":{"rendered":"Rooms"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>By Barbara Sweeney<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>We have the only room with a bath.<br \/>\nThere is a wooden toilet seat<br \/>\nand white legs on the tub<br \/>\nwash bowl\u00a0 mahogany dresser<br \/>\nfour poster bed.<br \/>\nI take pictures of you asleep<br \/>\nI take pictures of the view<br \/>\nI read in the tub<br \/>\nI hear the voices of those who<br \/>\nslept here before us<br \/>\n(you said we were the best)<br \/>\nI worry about people peeking in<br \/>\nthrough the glass at the top of the door<br \/>\n(how can you sleep at a time like this?)<br \/>\nI think about hallways,<br \/>\nsleeping outdoors, pianos,<br \/>\nyour father.<br \/>\nI think of you as a small boy<br \/>\nbreaking your toys.<\/p>\n<p>I pummel the sheets looking<br \/>\nfor messages to god.<br \/>\nI print out one of my own on your face.<br \/>\nYou waken, your eyes say, \u201cFair\u201d and \u201cCloudy\u201d.<br \/>\nThen we bow to each other noiselessly<br \/>\nbecause hope is such a quiet thing.<\/p>\n<p>The histories of worlds<br \/>\nripen in rooms<br \/>\nwith the taking off of watches<br \/>\nand the untying of shoes.<br \/>\nAnd, always, there is a woman who<br \/>\nstares out a window<br \/>\npast a shoulder, up to a ceiling<br \/>\nand becomes a breakfast<br \/>\nand becomes a hat<br \/>\nand loses her place<br \/>\nand taps out a message<br \/>\nwith her hair.<\/p>\n<p><em>Appeared in Yankee Magazine;<br \/>\nMarch, 1976<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>By Barbara Sweeney We have the only room with a bath. There is a wooden toilet seat and white legs on the tub wash bowl\u00a0 mahogany dresser four poster bed. I take pictures of you asleep I take pictures of the view I read in the tub I hear the voices of those who slept [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[21,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-32","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-rooms","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=32"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":33,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32\/revisions\/33"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=32"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=32"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=32"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}