My wife and I, we killed our God
with clomifene citrate in pill form
and daily injections of gonadotrophins.
It took several weeks, it was touch and go,
but in the end, in a small blue room
with a wall-mounted TV
stuck on a Friends DVD menu
a nurse told us he had died.
We held hands as that Rembrandts tune
announced in a loop it would be there for us.
At 5am today God’s death
crawled into our bed because
she’d had a bad dream.
Zellig, Gibb Street, Birmingham, B9 4AT
0121 794 0207
info@beatfreeks.com
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