Tonight I had a look in the fridge
for something to do. When I shut the door
a part of my brain decided to leave my thumb
inside, trap it and peel off a chunk of its skin.
During after-school football training in 1999,
a friend of mine asked me to stick
my arm out to show me a magic trick.
When I stuck it out, he cut my forearm
with the blade from a pencil sharpener.
After 30 minutes of stopping the bleeding
and sticking my sliced skin back together,
I asked why he did it. I can’t remember exactly
what he said, but it was along the lines of
Something to do.

© Carl Burkitt 2020