Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.
Bottomless pits. There's on in Castleton,
and stout upholders of our law and order
one day thought its depth worth wagering on
and borrowed a convict hush-hush from his warder
When the chilled dough of his flesh went in an oven
not unlike those he fuelled all his life,
How you became a poet's a mystery!
Wherever did you get your talent from?
I say: I had two uncles, Joe and Harry-
Your bed's got two wrong sides. You life's all grouse.
I let your phone-call take its dismal course:
Ah can't stand it no more, this empty house!