and it really is banging. Seriously.
The breakfasts are massive.
They have fruits and meats and juice.
You should feel the sun, it’s really hot.
I am literally looking at twenty seagulls,
they are gathered on the beach
like they’re having a natter, every beak
is the mouth of someone I have met
and not a single one of them is talking
about you. They are pointing at the waves
folding, the sand lying perfectly still,
the way the sky hangs with no help.
Not a single one of them is talking
about you. I have a few eggs on toast.

© Carl Burkitt 2022