Big News In A Little World - Paul Heaton, Jacqui Abbott

This flat I occupy hasn’t been this warm for weeks

And as the colour returns to everywhere, apart from these pallid cheeks

And as the cat go round my ankles, its tail, once more, is curled

It’s big news in a little world

And when the single hair, it germinates

From the very hand of nose

I, the stricken carrier

Or the only one who knows

The direction of that crooked branch

Always points and grows

Us to the graveyard