The Marlowe Papers (15 page)
Read The Marlowe Papers Online
Authors: Ros Barber
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Literary, #Biographical, #Women's Prize for Fiction - all candidates
And so we slipped
through snowy streets to Robert Sidney’s house.
I put Baines’s speedy limping down to cold,
to the icy leaks of less-than-perfect boots,
so blind was I to the fate he planned for me.
I put Baines’s speedy limping down to cold,
to the icy leaks of less-than-perfect boots,
so blind was I to the fate he planned for me.
‘You must arrest this man!’ Baines flings at me
a shaky arm. ‘Go on! Arrest this man!’
‘No! On what charge?’ I startle as the guards
take both my arms behind my back. ‘What charge?’
‘This man’s a traitor. Counterfeiting coin
of the realm. Sufficient crime, I think you’ll find,
to hang you,’ he says, switching his words to me.
a shaky arm. ‘Go on! Arrest this man!’
‘No! On what charge?’ I startle as the guards
take both my arms behind my back. ‘What charge?’
‘This man’s a traitor. Counterfeiting coin
of the realm. Sufficient crime, I think you’ll find,
to hang you,’ he says, switching his words to me.
Gifford begins to leave. ‘And this man too!’
Baines says decisively, through crumbling teeth.
‘He is a goldsmith, and he struck this coin.’
As guards take Gifford’s arms, Baines struts across
and slaps upon the desk our one Dutch shilling.
I glance at Gifford, but his eyes are fixed.
The embassy clerk in charge considers it.
Baines says decisively, through crumbling teeth.
‘He is a goldsmith, and he struck this coin.’
As guards take Gifford’s arms, Baines struts across
and slaps upon the desk our one Dutch shilling.
I glance at Gifford, but his eyes are fixed.
The embassy clerk in charge considers it.
‘A sorry thing,’ he says, soothing his beard.
‘It wouldn’t pass. It’s pewter.’
‘It wouldn’t pass. It’s pewter.’
‘It’s a test.
With practised skill they meant to strike in silver,’
Baines is insistent. ‘And the Queen’s own coin.
They’re traitors, both.’
Baines is insistent. ‘And the Queen’s own coin.
They’re traitors, both.’
‘This man is lying,’ I say.
‘We struck this coin, agreed, but for a wager.
To see the goldsmith’s cunning. Let me see
Sir Robert Sidney on my own. I can
explain.’
To see the goldsmith’s cunning. Let me see
Sir Robert Sidney on my own. I can
explain.’
But we would not be seen alone.
Sir Robert was very busy. A two-hour wait,
messengers running in and out like bees
depositing nectar; visitors summoned forth
and clacking their leaving heels across the tiles:
all more important than three feuding frauds.
Even though two of us might meet our death,
the crime was ‘petty’ treason. Common. Small.
messengers running in and out like bees
depositing nectar; visitors summoned forth
and clacking their leaving heels across the tiles:
all more important than three feuding frauds.
Even though two of us might meet our death,
the crime was ‘petty’ treason. Common. Small.
Gifford was steeped in silence, staring down
at a spot that looked like blood just by his feet.
I rehearsed what I would tell him, any words
that would keep me from the gibbet. Richard Baines
was impatient, jiggling his legs like rattling sticks,
and yet each time he caught my eye he grinned,
like a cook who holds a lobster by its claw.
Finally we were summoned.
at a spot that looked like blood just by his feet.
I rehearsed what I would tell him, any words
that would keep me from the gibbet. Richard Baines
was impatient, jiggling his legs like rattling sticks,
and yet each time he caught my eye he grinned,
like a cook who holds a lobster by its claw.
Finally we were summoned.
‘Very well.’
Sir Robert surveyed us with the saddest eyes
I’ve ever seen in government. He seemed
as under water as a drowning man
whose white face sinks away from you.
I’ve ever seen in government. He seemed
as under water as a drowning man
whose white face sinks away from you.
‘I have …’
the effort was painful ‘ … understood the claim
and counter-claim. Now speak one at a time.
First, Master Baines.’
and counter-claim. Now speak one at a time.
First, Master Baines.’
Baines rises to his feet.
‘I’d prefer you sitting,’ Sidney says.
Baines sits
reluctantly. His voice scratches the air
like a thing that claws the door to be let in.
‘These two men struck that coin upon your desk.’
The sorry thing that looks more like a stain.
‘This man’ – his bony finger points at me –
‘is an enemy of Her Majesty, who means
to go to Rome.’
like a thing that claws the door to be let in.
‘These two men struck that coin upon your desk.’
The sorry thing that looks more like a stain.
‘This man’ – his bony finger points at me –
‘is an enemy of Her Majesty, who means
to go to Rome.’
‘I do not!’
‘Sir, sit down,’
warns Sidney, for indeed I’m on my feet.
‘
You
mean to go to Rome!’ I finger Baines.
‘Sir,
he
is the Romish agent.’
‘
You
mean to go to Rome!’ I finger Baines.
‘Sir,
he
is the Romish agent.’
‘Sir! Sit down!’
The governor’s anger silences the room.
I melt to sitting.
I melt to sitting.
Sidney takes a breath
of perfect patience. ‘Master Gilbert next.’
Gifford says only, ‘They both pressed me to it.
They wanted to know my skill.’ Eyes earthwards still.
They wanted to know my skill.’ Eyes earthwards still.
Behind the governor’s head, the worthy spines
of perhaps three hundred books are calling me
to confess myself a poet. ‘Like your brother,’
I imagine myself saying, ‘in whose tomb
I saw Sir Francis buried.’ But my tongue
is stuck in my cover.
of perhaps three hundred books are calling me
to confess myself a poet. ‘Like your brother,’
I imagine myself saying, ‘in whose tomb
I saw Sir Francis buried.’ But my tongue
is stuck in my cover.
‘A scholar by profession?’
He reads the notes taken on my arrest.
‘Marley,’ he says. (I gave the family name;
poised as it is between the poet’s and spy’s.)
‘You pressed the goldsmith to demonstrate his skill?’
‘Marley,’ he says. (I gave the family name;
poised as it is between the poet’s and spy’s.)
‘You pressed the goldsmith to demonstrate his skill?’
‘We both did. For a wager.’
Sidney clacks
the roof of his mouth. ‘A very risky bet
to take with a man who’s clearly not your friend.’
to take with a man who’s clearly not your friend.’
‘I did not think—’ I stop and realise
the truth of that. Sidney seems sadder still.
‘You’re aware that coining is a capital crime?’
I nod.
the truth of that. Sidney seems sadder still.
‘You’re aware that coining is a capital crime?’
I nod.
‘Why should this agent want you dead?’
Baines’s objection he stops with stony eyes.
I splutter, ‘Sir, my purpose …’
Falter there.
For the noose is sooner put around the neck
of government traitors. ‘Sir, I cannot speak
openly of my purpose. But wish to say
I’m very well known to the Earl of Northumberland.
And also my lord Strange.’
of government traitors. ‘Sir, I cannot speak
openly of my purpose. But wish to say
I’m very well known to the Earl of Northumberland.
And also my lord Strange.’
I watch his face
register the significance of these names:
two earls of Catholic family whose claims
to the English throne are watched by those like me.
two earls of Catholic family whose claims
to the English throne are watched by those like me.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ Baines says, ‘but who he knows
is not of relevance. The man should hang
for counterfeiting coinage of the realm.’
is not of relevance. The man should hang
for counterfeiting coinage of the realm.’
Sidney considers once again the coin,
a thing inconsequential in itself,
handed across a bar, or flicked into
a beggar’s hat. But here, potential doom,
the tiny price a man’s life hangs upon.
He raises his eyes, surveys all three of us.
a thing inconsequential in itself,
handed across a bar, or flicked into
a beggar’s hat. But here, potential doom,
the tiny price a man’s life hangs upon.
He raises his eyes, surveys all three of us.
‘Of this realm,’ Sidney says, ‘but not his own.
The case is not so clear.’
The case is not so clear.’
‘Sir, it is clear!’
Baines senses he has tugged a little hard,
and the hook not quite inside the lip; and here’s
a chance I might swim free. ‘Excuse me, sir,
but to counterfeit’s a crime in any land.
Simply imprison him, let a judge decide.’
and the hook not quite inside the lip; and here’s
a chance I might swim free. ‘Excuse me, sir,
but to counterfeit’s a crime in any land.
Simply imprison him, let a judge decide.’
Sir Robert Sidney rises like a spark
sent up the chimney. ‘I will not be told
my course of action by – what are you, sir? –
a snivelling groveller whose loyalties
are not detectable.’ Those words are like
the lifting of a boot that pressed my chest.
I thank him with my eyes, and anger him,
it seems, a little more. ‘It is not clear,
and I will not unravel it from here.
Lord Burghley will decide what shall be done.’
sent up the chimney. ‘I will not be told
my course of action by – what are you, sir? –
a snivelling groveller whose loyalties
are not detectable.’ Those words are like
the lifting of a boot that pressed my chest.
I thank him with my eyes, and anger him,
it seems, a little more. ‘It is not clear,
and I will not unravel it from here.
Lord Burghley will decide what shall be done.’
He ties the papers. ‘Masters Marley and Gifford,
you remain under arrest. As prisoners
you’ll sail tonight for England. Master Baines,
you will go with them.’
you remain under arrest. As prisoners
you’ll sail tonight for England. Master Baines,
you will go with them.’
‘Am I prisoner?’
Baines asks, most aggravated. ‘Sir, I have
important business here.’
important business here.’
Sir Robert asks,
‘And what is more important than the law?
Than justice being done?’ Baines cannot say.
He’s fleshed in secrets. ‘You will go with them.’
Than justice being done?’ Baines cannot say.
He’s fleshed in secrets. ‘You will go with them.’
The river’s frozen, sullen as it’s wide.
The town sits on the river like a toad
swallowing flies. We are its meal today,
and half digested, we’re pushed out to home.
The town sits on the river like a toad
swallowing flies. We are its meal today,
and half digested, we’re pushed out to home.
Before we reached London, Baines had slipped away.
Along the Strand, the air was a mist of rain,
which flecked and relieved our faces with its cold.
Along the Strand, the air was a mist of rain,
which flecked and relieved our faces with its cold.
Burghley was livid.
‘Now, what have I left?
Two unmasked agents and a scheme undone
which took four years to put in place.’
which took four years to put in place.’
‘My lord—’
‘Don’t
my lord
me.’ He vibrates like a bee
that can’t decide to sting us. ‘You are dead,’
he says to Gifford. ‘I cannot have you hanged
without unravelling a dozen lies
that serve to protect Her Majesty. Though God
knows I am in the mood to have you hanged
for your destructive interference.’
my lord
me.’ He vibrates like a bee
that can’t decide to sting us. ‘You are dead,’
he says to Gifford. ‘I cannot have you hanged
without unravelling a dozen lies
that serve to protect Her Majesty. Though God
knows I am in the mood to have you hanged
for your destructive interference.’
‘Sir—’
His attempt to speak is severed by a hand.
‘Expressly, Gifford, you had been retired
and put out to pasture. It was not your place
to be in Flushing, let alone intrude
on matters of delicacy.’
‘Expressly, Gifford, you had been retired
and put out to pasture. It was not your place
to be in Flushing, let alone intrude
on matters of delicacy.’
‘I saw a chance
to be of some service.’
‘Only to yourself!’
Burghley dismisses him to wait outside.
‘And you.’ He turns to me. ‘Can you explain
what violent arrogance possessed your brain
to demonstrate how counterfeiting’s done?’
‘And you.’ He turns to me. ‘Can you explain
what violent arrogance possessed your brain
to demonstrate how counterfeiting’s done?’
‘I thought – I felt – if he was Catholic,
and keeping Stanley’s gate, then it would prove
that I was close to Poole, might be of use.’
and keeping Stanley’s gate, then it would prove
that I was close to Poole, might be of use.’
‘You set the hook by which he wound you in.’
He turns to the desk and thumps it. Rubs his fist
and returns to stalking, up and down like thread
from my mother’s darning needle. ‘Can’t be fixed,’
he says, as though he too perceives the hole
I just imagined. ‘You are too well known.
But not as an agent. No.’ He meets himself
on coming back. It seems they have agreed.
He turns to the desk and thumps it. Rubs his fist
and returns to stalking, up and down like thread
from my mother’s darning needle. ‘Can’t be fixed,’
he says, as though he too perceives the hole
I just imagined. ‘You are too well known.
But not as an agent. No.’ He meets himself
on coming back. It seems they have agreed.
‘You were on Her Majesty’s business. An arrest
on petty treason necessitates your death –’
He pauses for breath. Perhaps to make me sweat.
‘– which plain incompetence does not deserve.
Yet your release …’ Again he ventures short
and this time, won’t complete. ‘You’re on your own.
I recommend a daily dose of prayer
that no news of your liberated state
gets out to Baines.’
on petty treason necessitates your death –’
He pauses for breath. Perhaps to make me sweat.
‘– which plain incompetence does not deserve.
Yet your release …’ Again he ventures short
and this time, won’t complete. ‘You’re on your own.
I recommend a daily dose of prayer
that no news of your liberated state
gets out to Baines.’
‘Then I am free to go?’
‘For now, you’re free. Return to tutoring.’
Crossing the marble entrance hall, I hear
a gentle voice behind me: ‘Marlowe, sir.’
a gentle voice behind me: ‘Marlowe, sir.’
The Earl of Southampton, hair down to his waist,
and dressed as if Tuesday morning might be host
to some fine occasion.
and dressed as if Tuesday morning might be host
to some fine occasion.
‘I enjoyed your poems.
Remiss of me to let so many months
pass without saying so. Forgive me, please.’
pass without saying so. Forgive me, please.’
I nod. ‘I understand they didn’t work.’
‘Not as my lord intended,’ he replies,
with a momentary flash of summer’s warmth.
‘But something of love is kindled by your lines.’
‘Not as my lord intended,’ he replies,
with a momentary flash of summer’s warmth.
‘But something of love is kindled by your lines.’
A servant appears, as if a fairy’s curse
has summoned him from smoke to break the spell.
‘My lord Southampton, you’re required within.’
has summoned him from smoke to break the spell.
‘My lord Southampton, you’re required within.’
Gifford was just outside. We left as one,
all hope of further service work undone.
all hope of further service work undone.
Light-fingered rain had thickened in the hour
and now fell hard enough to clear the streets.
Though the door closed at our backs, we hovered there
to shelter in the doorway. ‘Disappear,’
said Gifford. ‘Baines won’t keep this to himself.’
and now fell hard enough to clear the streets.
Though the door closed at our backs, we hovered there
to shelter in the doorway. ‘Disappear,’
said Gifford. ‘Baines won’t keep this to himself.’
The consolation prize I called my friends
was out of sorts when I returned that night
to the lanes of Shoreditch, freshened by the rain,
rinsed of the stench of urine. I could kiss
their crooked timber houses and the dogs
half bald with mange, prepared to brave the wet
to nose the butcher’s leavings. Much the same
as when I left to tangle with Richard Baines,
excepting those friends of mine. Some argument
had splintered them into separate inns.
was out of sorts when I returned that night
to the lanes of Shoreditch, freshened by the rain,
rinsed of the stench of urine. I could kiss
their crooked timber houses and the dogs
half bald with mange, prepared to brave the wet
to nose the butcher’s leavings. Much the same
as when I left to tangle with Richard Baines,
excepting those friends of mine. Some argument
had splintered them into separate inns.
First Ned,
nursing a pint of stout between his paws
in the Cock and Bull. ‘The man’s impossible,’
he booms like an ancient king. ‘What? Robert Greene.
I only added six lines to his scene
and he took offence. Called me a pea-brained clod,
a country parsnip, if you please. My God.’
‘And you stayed calm?’
in the Cock and Bull. ‘The man’s impossible,’
he booms like an ancient king. ‘What? Robert Greene.
I only added six lines to his scene
and he took offence. Called me a pea-brained clod,
a country parsnip, if you please. My God.’
‘And you stayed calm?’
‘I may have said some things.’
Nashe in the Horse and Groom, his mischief sealed
behind a troubled stare. ‘It’s not my fault!’
he says straight off. ‘Though Ned is blaming me
for laughing, the pompous oaf. Greene lost his temper.
Now Ned won’t even pay him what he’s owed.’
‘And what of the play?’
behind a troubled stare. ‘It’s not my fault!’
he says straight off. ‘Though Ned is blaming me
for laughing, the pompous oaf. Greene lost his temper.
Now Ned won’t even pay him what he’s owed.’
‘And what of the play?’
‘The play? The play’s a mess.’
My play. That Ned persuaded me to leave
half finished when I went abroad. Had said,
‘Good hands will finish it! You’ll have your share.
The lion’s share, indeed. Go on, be gone!’
My play was at the core of what went wrong.
half finished when I went abroad. Had said,
‘Good hands will finish it! You’ll have your share.
The lion’s share, indeed. Go on, be gone!’
My play was at the core of what went wrong.
Greene had moved in with a strumpet named Em Ball,
who cradled his head between a squelch of breasts,
eyeing me sharply. ‘Don’t be upsetting him.
He isn’t well.’ Greene peered up through the pain
of a whole day’s wine. ‘You can sod your blasted play
unless you’ve come with money from the Crow.’
‘Ned isn’t happy.’
who cradled his head between a squelch of breasts,
eyeing me sharply. ‘Don’t be upsetting him.
He isn’t well.’ Greene peered up through the pain
of a whole day’s wine. ‘You can sod your blasted play
unless you’ve come with money from the Crow.’
‘Ned isn’t happy.’
‘Good.’
‘About the play –
you have some scenes?’
‘I fed them to the fire,’
he growled. ‘Delightful words, but we had need
of kindling.’
of kindling.’
‘Greene, for God’s sake!’
‘What of God?
What’s God to do with this, you atheist?
I know what you’ve been up to, gone abroad
to pretend at being Catholic, setting traps
for Jesuits. How taxing it must be
to believe in nothing.’
I know what you’ve been up to, gone abroad
to pretend at being Catholic, setting traps
for Jesuits. How taxing it must be
to believe in nothing.’
‘Robert, that’s not true –
and protecting Her Majesty is honest work.’
‘If lying through your teeth is honest work
no wonder I’m facing death through poverty.
You’re no more honest than your friend the Crow,
for both of you live by acting. And beneath
are puffed-up nothings, like the fungus balls
we find in the woods, and stamp to clouds of spores.’
no wonder I’m facing death through poverty.
You’re no more honest than your friend the Crow,
for both of you live by acting. And beneath
are puffed-up nothings, like the fungus balls
we find in the woods, and stamp to clouds of spores.’
‘Greene—’
‘You address me decently. Try “sir”.’
‘What have I done?’
‘Whose brothers have you sunk
with your information? Who now rots in gaol
as the result of your “intelligence”? While I,
with twice the education and the skill,
am hired as a scribbler to complete your play?
And then insulted. And, what’s worse, not paid.
What have you
not
done? You have left a trail
of devastation in your wake, while you
reap every glory. God will bring you down.
I have that faith.’
as the result of your “intelligence”? While I,
with twice the education and the skill,
am hired as a scribbler to complete your play?
And then insulted. And, what’s worse, not paid.
What have you
not
done? You have left a trail
of devastation in your wake, while you
reap every glory. God will bring you down.
I have that faith.’
‘In God?’
‘He spoke to me.’
He fills himself with air like a balloon.
Em grabs his arm as if to steady him.
‘From the bottom of a cup?’
Em grabs his arm as if to steady him.
‘From the bottom of a cup?’
‘Oh, you may mock.
There is no God for you, of course, but Fame.
Get out. And do not speak to me again.’
Get out. And do not speak to me again.’
His mind diseased, I left him with his whore
and went in search of my own sanity:
an evening with Tom Watson, to offload
the horror that was Flushing, knowing he
would find the joke in it. And we’d share Baines,
and the resurrection of dead spies, with glee.
He’d shore me up.
and went in search of my own sanity:
an evening with Tom Watson, to offload
the horror that was Flushing, knowing he
would find the joke in it. And we’d share Baines,
and the resurrection of dead spies, with glee.
He’d shore me up.
But no lights in his rooms.
And no Tom in the local hostelry.
And no wife to explain where he might be.
And no wife to explain where he might be.
The night was turning filthy, with the rain
harried in all directions by a gale.
In case his tutor’s duty kept him late
I knocked at Fisher’s Folly, spoke his name,
and the door was shut on me.
harried in all directions by a gale.
In case his tutor’s duty kept him late
I knocked at Fisher’s Folly, spoke his name,
and the door was shut on me.
So I trudged back
to Nashe. ‘Have you seen Watson anywhere?’
‘Oh, Kit. My word, I’m sorry. I was so –
preoccupied. I forgot you didn’t know –
it happened weeks ago.’
‘Oh, Kit. My word, I’m sorry. I was so –
preoccupied. I forgot you didn’t know –
it happened weeks ago.’
‘What happened?’
‘Kit,
he’s in the Fleet.’
It’s true that I had then
a vision of his body, bloated dark
with the sewer water, floating to the Thames.
Rather that than think our friend in chains.
with the sewer water, floating to the Thames.
Rather that than think our friend in chains.
‘Explain,’ I said, winded enough to sit
and help myself to cider.
and help myself to cider.
‘He – oh, Kit,
it isn’t good.’
‘Explain.’
‘The girl, the girl—’
And so he blurted it. Tom’s brother-in-law
falling for Cornwallis’s young daughter,
and how Tom – as a jest – suggested that
he lend ten angels to the miser’s girl,
and have his brother Hugh draw up a deed
to say she’ll repay it on her wedding day,
but worded in such tortured legal speak
that he, the brother-in-law, must be the groom.
falling for Cornwallis’s young daughter,
and how Tom – as a jest – suggested that
he lend ten angels to the miser’s girl,
and have his brother Hugh draw up a deed
to say she’ll repay it on her wedding day,
but worded in such tortured legal speak
that he, the brother-in-law, must be the groom.
‘And all is blamed on Tom? He’s in the Fleet?’
‘He’s in the Fleet, accused of every crime
the family could muster. Chiefly this,
for instigating blackmail.’
the family could muster. Chiefly this,
for instigating blackmail.’
‘Have you tried
to bail him out?’
‘They wouldn’t set a price.
His employer’s livid. And in any case
I’m hardly equipped to lend a surety.’
I’m hardly equipped to lend a surety.’
The wind was at my back and in my face,
the links boys scattered by the howling rain,
and only a lighted window here or there
allowed me to thread that mile across the city.
In time, the sullen shadow of the Fleet
reared up its walls and smell.
the links boys scattered by the howling rain,
and only a lighted window here or there
allowed me to thread that mile across the city.
In time, the sullen shadow of the Fleet
reared up its walls and smell.
Though it was late,
I offered what I had in silver coin
to a hook-nosed gaoler.
to a hook-nosed gaoler.
‘Watson. Tom. It’s me.’
I shook him, and his soul fell into place
behind his eyes: still him, but somehow changed.
‘I’m done for, Kit.’
behind his eyes: still him, but somehow changed.
‘I’m done for, Kit.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Smell the place.’
The torchlight lit him wildly, but the draught
that ripped through the building couldn’t budge the stench.
‘That’s death,’ he said. ‘Three corpses leave a day.’
‘Not yours,’ I said. ‘You’re coming out alive.’
He smiled as if I was insane. ‘Let’s pray.’
that ripped through the building couldn’t budge the stench.
‘That’s death,’ he said. ‘Three corpses leave a day.’
‘Not yours,’ I said. ‘You’re coming out alive.’
He smiled as if I was insane. ‘Let’s pray.’
And closed his eyes. I waited for the joke
to end. Instead, his eyes steadfastly closed,
his lips were murmuring. And then, ‘Amen.’
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
to end. Instead, his eyes steadfastly closed,
his lips were murmuring. And then, ‘Amen.’
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
He looked at me
as though I spoke in Flemish, and the pause
was for his own translation. ‘Am I? No,’
his words as brittle as an ancient book.
‘Tom, you’ll escape the charges.’
was for his own translation. ‘Am I? No,’
his words as brittle as an ancient book.
‘Tom, you’ll escape the charges.’
‘You don’t know,’
he said. ‘Cornwallis doesn’t go to church.
You understand? He has me for a spy.’
‘I’ll get you out.’
You understand? He has me for a spy.’
‘I’ll get you out.’
‘With what? A locksmith’s pick?’
‘I’ll think of something.’
‘Yes. The genius,’
he said, unusually sour. ‘Well, think it quick.’
‘Where’s Ann?’ I asked. He threw his head back hard
against the stone. ‘With relatives. My wife
must resort to charity. It was a joke!’
‘What was?’
against the stone. ‘With relatives. My wife
must resort to charity. It was a joke!’
‘What was?’
‘What do you think? The bastard note.
I never thought they’d write the idiot thing.’
He smacked his head against the wall again.
He smacked his head against the wall again.
Two hours I stayed, entrenched in his despair,
and each week after, dragged myself to him,
with pies, and paper that he had no heart
to fill with words. The spark in him was out,
and his estate too damp and treacherous
for it to be relit. What was my friend
departed months before the final pinch.
and each week after, dragged myself to him,
with pies, and paper that he had no heart
to fill with words. The spark in him was out,
and his estate too damp and treacherous
for it to be relit. What was my friend
departed months before the final pinch.
And though I strove to paint his freedom there,
a future for him, he only saw his end
creeping towards him, inch by stinking inch.
a future for him, he only saw his end
creeping towards him, inch by stinking inch.
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