He didn’t know his father
For thirty-five years that he lived.
Before he was ten
His mother abandoned him
For a better life
Of vagrancy
And hallucination of meths*
Turning her heart into stone
A path he later chose
For escape or success.
In his struggles to survive
He lost an eye
And the lamp was further dimmed.

One evening they found him groaning
Like a bullfrog under a hedge
Belly-taut with rattex.*

I met him coming from hospital
We laughed
About his rodent appetite.
He said life was cruel
I said, ‘Next time use a rope-
You won’t fail.’

Two nights later
A school watchman
Found him dangling
Like a maize-cob in a hut roof.
Friends and relatives
Put him deep in a hole.

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meths (methylated spirits)
rattex (a type of a pesticide)