Binner wheeled to departure gates:
An ‘offensive act’, booking those flights.
Hug-locked, brow-racked, scorching fears:
Final-flighted, scare-fared tears.
One-way ticketed, for one of those few,
To meet the Swiss doctor who will ‘do’.

Binner reduced, when failing to hang,
Takes assurance when death’s knell rang.
Last supped-meal, over pressed white cloth:
Closest friends, quit disciplined voice;
Swallowed wine, over swallowed tears,
Binner consumes all their fears.

The clinic, managed, comfortable, slow,
Would allow him, on the last turn, a ‘no’.
Law, even there, needs proof of intent,
Questioning to reckon if death is meant.
Our last lain bed is not often chosen,
Its use not usually the thing be-known.

Binner to Debbie, in planned dub-voice,
Clarity is this, one last act, his choice.


Gone from the clinic, pushed solid-boxed,
Remnants of his self, rolled coroner-locked.

What we leave behind never remains,
What we seek to leave is minimal pain.
Difficulty in death is not for the dying;
That awkward state is for those left crying.
Should we leave wakes of tear-run floods,
For those we lived with, by spilling our blood?

Bravery is found in the judgement of others,
Strained heart broke, by his out-living mother.
Autumn pulls Binner down with its fall,
He pre-supposed well, cheating winter’s cruel call.

How to Die: Simon’s Choice: via @bbciplayer

“thank you @MikeBellWrites for a beautiful poem about the remarkable Simon Binner “

— Rowan Deacon (@RowanDeacon) February 13, 2016


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.