I was walking the down the road by the high flats and the shop
And I was followed by my father looking out for me
And my every step was shadowed by a hacking cough and a struggle
to keep pace with the nova waves of my feet and of my head.
The Asian corner shop was full of the voices of my friends
and the vices of my body and the shapes of old women
old women buying cat food for their Sunday dinner
and I couldn’t remember what I had been sent to buy
And my friend filled me to the brim with allergy pills, psych pills, sleepers
but the hours rolled on and each time Morpheus approached
I ran to the faded figures of my family beyond the doors
I heard you cough, as you, four packs a day until you died,
my aunt, you always coughed like that –
I heard you cough, and I didn’t know what had happened
And beyond the shroud I came to wake you
and I didn’t realize how much I scared you. I could say
that I thought you’d be okay since you knew the territory, but –
it’d be the truth to say that it wasn’t on my mind at all, no,
I was not on my mind at all.