Some people say it was ok for it to happen then.

You died to me when I old enough to know better.

Often beaten

and banished

to the back of a blue panel-van.

I would with lie with legions

illuminated by the

orange road lights 

of Leeds inner ring-road.

On a bed

of carpet tacks and Gripper rods,

inhaling linoleum adhesive,

led to lucid dreams

about some magnificent megapolis

and a life

far away from 

domestic violence of the 1970s.