One episode is enough to wonder
if your television is trying to kill you.
They’ve shoved the lot into one creature.
Cut her open and her bones will be
sticks of rock with the word glitter
running through the middle. She smells
like candy floss and a week off.
Has your head ever been hit like a piñata?
I think about the animators.
Do they walk to work and see the hope of sunshine in a grey cloud, the glow
in lightening, the cleanliness of a hearse?
© Carl Burkitt 2022