It was an ordinary, wet north Manchester night

Of solid rain, unremittingly wet. And cold.

When, suddenly, all the rivers in all the world stopped flowing

And all the summer colours leached away and never returned

And the wind it is so cold and it still stings like hell

And the sky descends into the air

And, all of a sudden,  you're not there

And the blackness is deep, and remains 

Everyfuckinwhere

When the doctor

Tells us, incidentally,

There is no function, he is dead.

I carry him into the mortuary

Past the lucky Pakistani family

With the sick child

Who look worriedly at us

As if they feared the contagion of death.

I feel like shouting

‘It aint infectious you fuckers

And anyway what’s your fuckin God gotta do with it?’

Except cause it?