{"id":3184,"date":"2017-02-04T11:09:05","date_gmt":"2017-02-04T16:09:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/archive.onesentencepoems.com\/?p=3184"},"modified":"2017-01-31T00:12:37","modified_gmt":"2017-01-31T05:12:37","slug":"james-brush-the-singer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.onesentencepoems.com\/?p=3184","title":{"rendered":"James Brush &#8220;The Singer&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<h1>James Brush<\/h1>\n<h2><span style=\"color: #800000;\">The Singer<\/span><\/h2>\n<p>I strung my guitar with hair you gave me,<br \/>\nthinking it was yours,<\/p>\n<p>but old songs came in unknown keys,<br \/>\nthe voices of animals.<\/p>\n<p><strong>James Brush<\/strong><em> lives in Austin, TX and posts things online at <a href=\"http:\/\/coyotemercury.com\/\">Coyote Mercury<\/a> where he keeps a full list of publications.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>James Brush The Singer I strung my guitar with hair you gave me, thinking it was yours, but old songs came in unknown keys, the voices of animals. James Brush lives in Austin, TX and posts things online at Coyote Mercury where he keeps a full list of publications.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"aside","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false}},"_wpscppro_dont_share_socialmedia":false,"_wpscppro_custom_social_share_image":0},"categories":[9],"tags":[150],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.5 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>James Brush &quot;The Singer&quot; - One Sentence Poems<\/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:\/\/archive.onesentencepoems.com\/?p=3184\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"James Brush &quot;The Singer&quot; - One Sentence Poems\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"James Brush The Singer I strung my guitar with hair you gave me, thinking it was yours, but old songs came in unknown keys, the voices of animals. 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