I’ve had another go at mixing. Yes, I’m afraid so. More ambitious, so more mistakes. I enjoyed doing it but my school report would read: Could Do Better.

Many, many, many thanks to Panu Moon, Porchcat, Puie, Urmymuse, Nurykabe and Onlymeith for supplying a treasure trove of wonderful sounds.

AFTER THEY’VE GONE

She was born a beauty
inside and out,
that’s what people said
everybody said.
Who’d have thought by age 43,
still lovely and single,
she’d want her parents dead?

She felt no guilt,
they’d built a cage around her
in ways she couldn’t foresee.
Brought her down,
shackled her
and thrown away the key.

“She has a heart of gold,”
the neighbours said,
“come to help her mum
and fill the gap.”
But her mother,
dripping gratitude,
was only part of the trap.

Behind the sweet mask
she felt disintegration,
her mother’s oft repeated thanks
no reparation.
“Must make you feel all warm inside,”
people said, “to care for your mum
and dad at home.”
She didn’t say, “I miss solitude and Chablis,
a life
crisp with glass and chrome.”

No longer a woman,
she was just her parents’ parent,
and they’d never, never let go.
Her father had become
a wrinkly old baby,
her mother deaf and
silent as snow.

She’d gaze for hours
at her old school photo,
that little girl with plaits
unaware of her fate.
She prayed that they’d die