thanking that teacher who, back in the day,
refused to let you go down the wrong path –
the bloke with a beard like the rough side
of a sponge and sense of humour of a character
in a Lee Mack sitcom. Michael asks what you were
like as a child and you make a joke about not being
very interesting until you got to college
but I remember the way you would line up you
charity shop toy cars into living room length
traffic jams, how you knew everyone’s
favourite colour, how you would celebrate
spotting the first letter of your cousin’s name
in shop signs or drain covers. I remember
the way you thought raising one finger
was a thumbs up and couldn’t sleep
without an audiobook. Michael asks what
your parents were like and you stare directly
down the camera.

© Carl Burkitt 2023