Mamucium: breast-place, mother, Eve –
Oh bone of my flesh, flesh of my bone,
Clay and water dredged, sweet Daub Hole.

Tonight the mysteries of glaciers
Spend themselves on tarmac. Ice-caps soak us.
We’re the damp-arsed. Your favoured kids.

So this is what it’s like to be cast out –
East of Eden, East of Salford, benched
With drunks. Beyond the wall, buses squeal.
 
We’re in the dark and forget the garden
Was an asylum once. Bright lights, fierce crowds
Dance along its edge. We’d leave if we could.

Mamucium: breast-place, mother, Eve –
Clay and water. Raw bone. It’s what we are.
Can you hear me, Eve? Our breath is fumes.