This is the light on.
The darkest part of town.
You take the staircase.
Walking up the long way down.
Here’s a silly bit of soppy complicated rhyme.

We drink wine and we cry bitter tears into oceans
That wash over mountains and turn them to mud.
Here in this place we’ll turn clay into candles
Light up the sun that turns shit into gold.

This is the care home
The board games and TV.
Like snakes and ladders?
Climbing those rickety rungs To a hole in the sea.
We’re up and down.
We’re black and blue.

Lets drink wine …We can cry
Bitter tears into oceans
That crash over mountains and turn them to mud.
But under these sheets we’ll turn sand into light bulbs
And turn on the sun that turns shit into gold.

50 Abbey Wood Road 2015