£4.88

Your body was found dead in your flat, three months gone and smelling like hell.

They came and took you away, to the morgue downtown, an unhappy place.

Clearing your flat they found £4.88, not much to show for a lonely death.

Always on your own, eternally in death. How sad no one will see you buried, a pauper’s death, the undertaker the only witness at this solemn occasion.

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The dead man sits on his sofa and watches TV

in his East German tower block apartment.

Cash in the bank pays his bills, no eviction notice here.

What was once a real person is a mummified corpse, all wrinkled and shrunken.

For three years he's been like this, a TV critic.

Bored fucking shitless, dead.

From soaps to films, he's endured them all.

No neighb...

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