North

Aye. We knew summat were 
wrong with him. He smoked 
Silk Cut, ate dinner for his tea.

He wore big headphones,
the longest of coats.
Some of us saw him weep.

He’d come from Essex,
they said. He were really 
not up to much. 

Aye. We knew summat were 
right wrong with him.
He were delicate to the touch.