Gold spray-painted busker

I bite my finger nails. I like to nibble my claws.
Not when I’m nervous, when I’m bored.
Anxiousness gets my legs dancing.
Before an exam I could ride a tricycle
up a black ice covered mountain.
When a video conference call dials
I’m Road Runner smashing through a wall.
Sat around a meeting room table waiting for my turn
to announce my name and one fact about me
I could teach Michael Flatley a thing or two.
When I stood at the end of the aisle on that sunny
October morning, I was a gold spray-painted busker
frozen on the local high street.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s