I can see a bloke from my living room window,
his shoulders are hunched
from the weight of carrying five overly stuffed
Waitrose shopping bags for life. It’s either
sweat on his forehead or he’s been crying up.
No doubt when he gets home he’ll unpack
the jar of sliced pickles, the cartons of oat milk,
the buy one get one free tins of tuna,
before sitting on a high backed sofa
wondering whether he should call that friend
he’s been putting off checking in on
and here I go again
banging on about a cup of tea
sitting on my desk
teasing me with energy and warmth.

© Carl Burkitt 2021