{"id":265,"date":"2013-06-08T00:05:03","date_gmt":"2013-06-07T18:05:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=265"},"modified":"2013-11-21T00:09:33","modified_gmt":"2013-11-20T18:09:33","slug":"more-poetry-from-the-mind-of-scott-henderson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=265","title":{"rendered":"MORE POETRY FROM THE MIND OF SCOTT HENDERSON"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>  <o:OfficeDocumentSettings>   <o:AllowPNG\/>  <\/o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <\/xml><![endif]--><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yesterday, June 6th, marked one month since my last blahg<\/span><\/strong><img loading=\"lazy\" alt=\"Scott Henderson still thinks he's cool!\" src=\"http:\/\/www.falseducks.com\/mrcool.jpg\" width=\"170\" height=\"225\" align=\"right\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" \/><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">.\u00a0 Frankly, I&#8217;ve been struggling to think what I should write about.\u00a0 Many things have been happening in my life and in the world but they just weren&#8217;t blahg worthy.\u00a0 Sure, I&#8217;ve been angry about many things and in the past I&#8217;ve written here about the things that make me angry.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t want this blahg to be like that.\u00a0 I don&#8217;t want people to think I&#8217;m unhappy all of the time.\u00a0 I&#8217;m not.\u00a0 Well, maybe I am a lot more lately but I&#8217;m trying to get past that.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 One of my favorite blahgs this year was IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU&#8217;RE TOO CLOSE.\u00a0 You can check it out here:\u00a0 <a href=\"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=121\">http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/?p=121<\/a>.\u00a0 In that blahg I shared some of my poetry and even managed to write something new.\u00a0 I&#8217;ve been think a great deal about my poetry lately and how proud I used to be of the poems I wrote.\u00a0 I even spent a five year period between 1987 and 1992 sending out submissions and trying to get published.\u00a0 I was only successful a couple of times.\u00a0 Nonetheless, I thought I would share some of my favorite poems here and go one better by posting videos of me reading those poems.\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The following poem was not one of the poems that I had published.\u00a0 It is one of my favorites however because it talks about this limit between youth and manhood and what separates us from the stupid things we did as boys compared to the stupid things we do as men.\u00a0 It&#8217;s called &#8220;Drivin&#8217; over the limit&#8221; and was written July 13, 1986:<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/O_OBB2Uugb4\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Drivin&#8217; over the limit<\/h2>\n<h3>hangin&#8217; onto girls<br \/>\nwe knew years ago,<br \/>\nSteve and I take this dark drive home<br \/>\nfrom Kingston<br \/>\nand admit to each other<br \/>\nthat no boy&#8217;s different<br \/>\nfrom the the man he&#8217;s gonna be and<br \/>\nthat we all rush toward those guys of us<br \/>\nwho&#8217;ll have it all<br \/>\nand&#8217;ll have who they want<br \/>\nfrom the whole crop and<br \/>\nyet gettin&#8217; to those guys<br \/>\nmeans wasting yer youth<br \/>\non moments that yer maturity<br \/>\nwill kick you for passing by.<\/h3>\n<h3>and those girls of our yesteryears<br \/>\nwas ones we wracked our loins over<br \/>\ncause sex was what<br \/>\nthe opposite sex was all about<br \/>\nand if you wasn&#8217;t tuned in<br \/>\nto the guy the other guys<br \/>\nsaid you was to be<br \/>\nthen you gave up too easily<br \/>\non the girls that you wanted, and<br \/>\non the girls the other guys<br \/>\nsaid any red-blooded devil wanted,<br \/>\nand compromised yer self<br \/>\nby wanting girls<br \/>\nthat was beyond yer limit<\/h3>\n<h3>but now drivin&#8217; home<br \/>\nwe toss across names of girls,<br \/>\nwho though women now,<br \/>\nwill always be girls by names,<br \/>\nand confess those death secrets<br \/>\nthat we expected to keep for life<br \/>\nand yet seem so unimportant now<br \/>\nwhen stacked against the women<br \/>\nwhose girlish lives<br \/>\nwe never knew as boys<br \/>\nbut came to need as men<br \/>\nwhose boyhoods become<br \/>\na painful means to<br \/>\ngetting us over out limit<br \/>\nso we might get home<br \/>\nthat much quicker to our wives.<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This next poem was also written in 1986, on April 27th.\u00a0 I&#8217;ve always had a fascination with Superman and what it would be like to be him.\u00a0 I guess this answers those questions:<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/7siSC61gqHA\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 if you&#8217;d be a superman<\/h2>\n<h3>He works long hours<br \/>\nand he don&#8217;t ever get paid<br \/>\nor remuneration or thanks sometimes<br \/>\nbut that&#8217;s all part of his job<br \/>\nbeing a protector of the good<\/h3>\n<h3>If you wanta be Superman<br \/>\nyou gots to be more than human<br \/>\nnot necessarily superhuman<br \/>\nbut better than most folks<br \/>\nwho are always trying to do good<br \/>\nand put you out of a job<\/h3>\n<h3>In the center of that man&#8217;s faith<br \/>\nis himself<br \/>\nand he&#8217;s pretty sure<br \/>\nthey&#8217;ll all worship him always<br \/>\nfor being a hero and not a villain<br \/>\nbecause Superman is where it&#8217;s at<\/h3>\n<h3>Yeah Superman&#8217;s this guy<br \/>\nwho flies you know<br \/>\nbut when he walks<br \/>\nhe walks among us<br \/>\nand is one of us<br \/>\nlike he wants to be<br \/>\nand drinks a little<br \/>\nand he tells dirty stories<br \/>\nbut he&#8217;s perfect on duty<\/h3>\n<h3>Superman&#8217;s got no hang-ups<br \/>\nmaybe hang-outs maybe<br \/>\nlike getting in free at the drive-in<br \/>\nbut then who&#8217;d really ask him to own up?<\/h3>\n<h3>If you&#8217;d be a Superman<br \/>\nyou&#8217;d be just a guy in tights<br \/>\nbecause you gotta hate the job<br \/>\nlike it was the only thing evil<br \/>\nand you couldn&#8217;t defeat it<\/h3>\n<h3>If you&#8217;d live a Superman<br \/>\nyou&#8217;d be out of work<br \/>\nbecause there&#8217;s only room for one<br \/>\nand we&#8217;d all be Supermans if we could<\/h3>\n<h3>Yeah Superman&#8217;s&#8217; this guy<br \/>\nwho flies you know<br \/>\nbecause they draw him that way<br \/>\nand he can&#8217;t object<br \/>\nlike you would<br \/>\nif you&#8217;d be a Superman<\/h3>\n<h3>Yeah Superman&#8217;s this guy<br \/>\nwho fights crime and evil<br \/>\nand is always looking to be put out of business<br \/>\nbut not everyone wants to be a Superman<br \/>\nand he cries at night<br \/>\nwhen he&#8217;s flying<br \/>\nbut you think it&#8217;s rain<br \/>\nand he&#8217;s still up there<br \/>\nand he wonders what it would be like<br \/>\nif Superman&#8217;d be a you<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Now for some of my published poetry.\u00a0 The next two poems were published in the April\/May 1988 issue of the North York Arts Council Arts News.\u00a0 Other than a University newspaper at Trent, these were the first two poems I had published.<br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/BhK0GPipLRE\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2 style=\"line-height: 150%;\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A love poem:\u00a0 and I probably am<\/h2>\n<h3>it&#8217;s silly,<br \/>\nI know, but&#8230;<br \/>\nYa know<br \/>\nI don&#8217;t know<br \/>\nhow I got this way&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;extended into<br \/>\nyer hemisphere;<br \/>\nblockin&#8217; out the light&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;but&#8230;aha!<br \/>\nyer hemisphere<br \/>\nYER hemisphere<\/h3>\n<h3>yer HEMISPHERE<\/h3>\n<h3>left and right<br \/>\nfrontal lobe,<br \/>\ncerebral cortex,<\/h3>\n<h3>and the time<br \/>\nI thought the stuff<br \/>\nwas in my heart.<\/h3>\n<h3>well I&#8217;ll be Damned!!!<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This is the second poem I had published in the <strong>April\/May 1988 issue of the North York Arts Council Arts News.\u00a0 It was originally titled &#8220;The Wooden Train&#8221; but they erred and printed the title as &#8220;The Wooden Trail&#8221;.\u00a0 Frankly, I like their title better.<\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Yyf8FhQXoZ4\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 THE WOODEN TRAIL<\/h2>\n<h3>Run into an old buddy tonight&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;same name<br \/>\nnot the same person&#8211;<br \/>\nremember him when he was boy;<br \/>\nwhen we was all boys.<br \/>\nLots of rumbling stomachs<br \/>\nmumbling talk<br \/>\npassed between us ago<br \/>\nbut no call for this dark<br \/>\nhalf day.<\/h3>\n<h3>Learned more thing<br \/>\nsince him<br \/>\nbut couldn&#8217;t find any&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;not anything that you can say&#8211;<br \/>\nand so we just moved;<br \/>\ntoo scared to stand still<br \/>\nand catch up on ourselves.<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s been working six years<br \/>\nsame place<br \/>\nbut I&#8217;ve been working<br \/>\non me for my whole life<br \/>\nand I&#8217;m still without a job.<br \/>\nInvited me over<br \/>\nbut I opted for onward<br \/>\nand lost him somewheres.<br \/>\nAll reunions&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;mine&#8211;<br \/>\nshould be short like that&#8211;<br \/>\n&#8211;like my memory&#8211;<br \/>\nor I&#8217;ll start asking<br \/>\nwhat we&#8217;re here for<br \/>\nand be scared by<br \/>\nan answer&#8230;<\/h3>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The next time I would be published would be in December of 1988. It was in the old Poetry Toronto magazine.\u00a0 I had <strong>submitted to them before but they rejected my work and told me to study Canadian Poetry from the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s and not just the modern poetry of the 1980s.\u00a0 I wrote back and told them I was a Poetry scholar and had read, studied, and collected poetry of Canadians Poets of all of those decades.\u00a0 This time they chose to publish 4 of my poems.\u00a0 There was no note from them but the magazine showed up one day with a letter saying that this would be the last published edition of Poetry Toronto.\u00a0 No thank you for my submissions.\u00a0 I guess they blamed me for putting the magazine out of business.<\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/WrDrN0Wjqsk\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 DA MUSTARDMOON<\/h2>\n<h3>dis moment,<br \/>\nseparated from my wife<br \/>\nby job and mile<\/h3>\n<h3>dis moment<br \/>\nbarely<br \/>\none month after we&#8217;ve married<\/h3>\n<h3>I&#8217;d like to find<br \/>\ncomfort<br \/>\nin her navel<br \/>\nrisin&#8217;<br \/>\nslowly in her sleep<br \/>\nand know dat<br \/>\ndoes tiny fluctuations<br \/>\nis her guilt<br \/>\nfer lyin&#8217; on my side of da bed<\/h3>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <strong>Here&#8217;s the second poem from that Poetry Toronto magazine.\u00a0 A little embarrassing perhaps to my wife and I but I&#8217;ll print it here regardless.<\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/6nr9djYn0yg\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>DA HONEYMOON<\/h2>\n<h3>i&#8217;ve discovered<br \/>\ni&#8217;m no bluebird<br \/>\n&#8217;cause i wedded<br \/>\nand flew away to Manitoulin<br \/>\nwhere we made love<br \/>\nfour times<\/h3>\n<h3>but no<br \/>\nshe corrects me<br \/>\nand says it was only twice<\/h3>\n<h3>but yes<br \/>\ni contradict<br \/>\nand point out da four orgasms<\/h3>\n<h3>but no<\/h3>\n<h3>but yes<\/h3>\n<h3>but no<\/h3>\n<h3>but wait&#8230;she&#8217;s right<br \/>\nand fer the first time<br \/>\ni have to admit that to her<\/h3>\n<h3>which after da first time<br \/>\ni discover is<br \/>\na mistake to do so<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <strong>Here&#8217;s poem # 3 from that Poetry Toronto magazine. I was working midnights at a Texaco and it was taking a long time for them to get another employee to work those hours so I worked a long time without a night off and it inspired this poem.<\/strong><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/qCH1qOvjVZE\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A SHORT COLD POEM<\/h2>\n<h3>the british tabloids<br \/>\ncarry banner lines<br \/>\nTHE QUEEN-MOTHER<br \/>\nADMITTED TO HOSPITAL<br \/>\nand all the<br \/>\ncommonwealth nations<br \/>\ndraw in breaths<\/h3>\n<h3>but a week later<br \/>\nsurprise<br \/>\nJUST A COLD<br \/>\nDOCTORS SAY<br \/>\nand the air<br \/>\nis let back out<\/h3>\n<h3>meanwhile<br \/>\nit&#8217;s whispered<br \/>\nin canada<br \/>\n&#8220;henderson&#8217;s sick.<br \/>\nI hope he won&#8217;t ask<br \/>\nfor time off.<br \/>\nWe&#8217;re already<br \/>\nshort staffed.&#8221;<\/h3>\n<h3>but I work anyhow<br \/>\neight nights in a row<br \/>\nwaitin&#8217; fer<br \/>\nthe trainee<br \/>\nto screw up<br \/>\nenough courage<br \/>\nto work alone<br \/>\nor to re-assure<br \/>\nhimself<br \/>\n&#8220;henderson&#8217;s not<br \/>\ncontagious.&#8221;<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\"><strong>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Here&#8217;s the final poem of the 4 published in that Poetry Toronto magazine. It was a poem that described a conversation I was having with my wife over what to do one night when we were really bored and there was nothing but reruns on Television.\u00a0 Alas, Kmart is now gone.\u00a0 So&#8217;s Zellers for that matter.\u00a0 Hmmmm, maybe this is the poem that put Poetry Toronto and Kmart out of business in Canada.\u00a0 <\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/SgEF_V7xtS0\" height=\"315\" width=\"420\" allowfullscreen=\"\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<h2>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 DRY<\/h2>\n<h3>it&#8217;s 8 pm<br \/>\nrerun<br \/>\nmass masses boredom<\/h3>\n<h3>let&#8217;s jump inta da car<br \/>\nand drive somewhere dark and secluded<br \/>\nhop into da back seat<\/h3>\n<h3>no response<\/h3>\n<h3>but pressed she says&#8230;<\/h3>\n<h3>nevermind<\/h3>\n<h3>it&#8217;s 8:15<br \/>\nlet&#8217;s jaunt to da beach<br \/>\nhalf-hour and skinny-dip<\/h3>\n<h3>what beach?<\/h3>\n<h3>nevermind<\/h3>\n<h3>8:30 waltz around da Kmart<\/h3>\n<h3>okay<\/h3>\n<h3>OKAY?<br \/>\nMASS MASSES BOREDOM<br \/>\nLET&#8217;S ALL GO WALTZ AROUND DA KMART<\/h3>\n<h3>at 8:45 I grab da key<br \/>\nboot to da water<br \/>\nand hope dere&#8217;s a drownin&#8217;<\/h3>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"line-height: 150%;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: 15pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold','sans-serif';\"><strong>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I hope you enjoyed these poems and this blahg.\u00a0 It&#8217;s too bad the poet now needs glasses to read his own work.\u00a0 By the way, the Poet is available for recitals, parties, Bar Mitzvahs, funerals, shut-ins, or wherever there&#8217;s a captive audience that can&#8217;t shut off the computer or close the YouTube video.<\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yesterday, June 6th, marked one month since my last blahg.\u00a0 Frankly, I&#8217;ve been struggling to think what I should write about.\u00a0 Many things have been happening in my life and in the world but they just weren&#8217;t blahg worthy.\u00a0 Sure, I&#8217;ve been angry about many things and in the past I&#8217;ve written here about [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[4,59,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=265"}],"version-history":[{"count":48,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":313,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/265\/revisions\/313"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=265"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=265"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/falseducks.com\/theblahg\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=265"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}