It’s a confusing feeling
wanting to be eaten. But I felt it
all day. I’d watch canineless people
bob into the shop and wonder
what security they must have to not
need a pup in their life. I’d watch them
sip their espresso and not pester
with anything by their feet. Then
there were the dog owners who’d drag
their hound behind them, march past
the Dirt in the tin (me) to slump
in the corner and shove a creamy coffee
with black forest gateaux syrup slinking
through it into their gob. Then in walked
my dream: a 40-something hiker
with a Labrador by their side. They’d order
a tea to slurp by the window and watch
the trees, smile at the strangers,
worry about the future after sliding off
my lid for their best friend to go wild
with my insides.

Carl Burkitt 2023