Not so much a poem, more a word-for-word transcription of a bloke in the pub answering his mate’s question “What are your plans for when the Mrs is in Denmark?”

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As if I’d bloody tell you. Haha, nah, I’ve got a few jobs to crack on with. I’ve still not finished the shelves in the garage and she’s been banging on for years about a curtain rail in the office. I’ve got a few gammon joints lined up for my tea and I’m hoping Paul is free at the weekend. It’ll be slow, to be honest. I tell her all the time how I want a bit of free time but those ten days sound like hell when you say them. I wonder if there’s any football on.

Carl Burkitt 2024

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