Unto Us

Somewhere at some

They committed themselves to

And so,

I was!

Small, but I

AS!

Tiny, in

Lusting to liveI hung in my pulsing cave.

Soon they knew of

My mother —my father.

I had no say in my beingI lived on

And

Tho' I couldn't

Each part of me was sayingA silent 'Wait for meI will bring you love!'I was

Blind, naked,

By the hand of

Whose good

Was graven on a brass platein Wimpole Street,and dropped on the sterile floorof a foot operated plastic wastebucket.

There was no Queens

To take my brief.

The cot I might have

Stood in Harrod's shop window.

When my passing was

My father smiled.

No grief filled my empty space.

My death was

With tickets to see Danny la

Who was pretending to be a

Like my mother was.