Mother (or Findus Crispy Pancakes)

Oh, you promised me the world, Mother.
Those nights in front of
the gas fire with the Mitchells, Dingles, Duckworths.
You cooked Findus crispy pancakes and I basked
in the warm orange glow,
your little superman in spiderman pyjamas.
“A right bobby dazzler!”

D’you remember, Mother?
I thought I was something quite special.
Not so when I got to school
and they slammed me into classroom doors,
gathered me up with the other queers.
To be despised.

Do you remember?
You and me sitting in full make up
eating Findus crispy pancakes with our hands.
It was all such good fun wasn’t it?
it was all such a laugh?

I was going to be an ac-tor
and you my pushy mum
in the stage wings
my biggest fan.