{"id":1694,"date":"2012-07-18T20:54:52","date_gmt":"2012-07-18T20:54:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1694"},"modified":"2012-07-18T20:54:52","modified_gmt":"2012-07-18T20:54:52","slug":"ashley-fisher-712","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/ashley-fisher-712\/","title":{"rendered":"Ashley Fisher, 7\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

Abbey Road<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was one of those Victorian townhouses
\nthat a slum landlord (and Tory councillor)
\nhad bought and converted into fourteen bedsits
\nwith the cunning use of plasterboard and Yale locks.<\/p>\n

The room was furnished with a single bed, table
\nand sink. The meters were rigged by the landlord.
\nA lukewarm bath cost three quid in the gas meter
\non my first night there. I bathed cold after that,<\/p>\n

not wanting to spend long in a bathroom shared
\nby eight people. When I first moved in my
\ngirlfriend told me it was cosy. We both knew she
\nmeant it wasn’t sterilized, institutional. According<\/p>\n

to her mother I was a bad influence, and on the face
\nof it, I’d have to agree. A month later, she moved out
\nof the respectable two-up two-down to move in with
\nme and my colourful neighbours after a row with<\/p>\n

her housemate, came in one evening with a suitcase
\nand a face red from crying. Of course, I welcomed her
\nand the electric kettle she bought with her, but we both
\nknew that the two of us, in that room, wouldn’t work out.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ashley Fisher was born in South Cumbria, England and currently lives<\/em>
\nin Hull. He is a poet who performs his work around the UK and co-edits<\/em>
\nthe poetry magazine Turbulence. He also runs a monthly poetry night<\/em>
\ncalled Fresh Ink.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Abbey Road It was one of those Victorian townhouses that a slum landlord (and Tory councillor) had bought and converted into fourteen bedsits with the cunning use of plasterboard and Yale locks. The room was furnished with a single bed, table and sink. The meters were rigged by the landlord. A lukewarm bath cost three […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1694","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nAshley Fisher, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/ashley-fisher-712\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Ashley Fisher, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Abbey Road It was one of those Victorian townhouses that a slum landlord (and Tory councillor) had bought and converted into fourteen bedsits with the cunning use of plasterboard and Yale locks. 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