They took you from the hospital They didn’t know why you had died They wanted to do an autopsy
It took 3 weeks We couldn’t see your body It wasn’t fit they said And eventually we got
A Report Brain - 2 and a half pounds Body - healthy, unmarked - not emaciated No needle marks on the arms Liver - taken for analysis Traces of Tuinal and Physeptone They cut, weighed and analysed you But couldn’t find the reason Why you had died Drowning on your own ***** In a mental hospital
My mother took you to her hometown for burial To the cemetery hedge where you were conceived Later she told me that whenever you cried She shoved a dummy covered in malt into your mouth And then she would leave you Her bundle of idle words, looks and *****
Poor Dorothy looking for escape The war child who knew no softness or comfort Poor John a quick coupling in the dark beneath the cemetery hedge Begotten from chocolate, stockings and a Burslem teapot