The first time I went to the GP
to tell him I was depressed
he shuffled his bum on his swirly seat
and told me I was at an age where I had to
keep an eye on my tummy. He was talking
about the shape of a car tyre and walking
and the link between the gut and mood
but I wasn’t listening, I was worried
my tummy was feeling as empty as me.
Thinking my tummy believed
it did not deserve nice things
or was sitting in pubs with loved ones
who adored it, smiling at them
with teeth it would later use to bite itself
made me want to keep an eye on it,
talk to it with more compassion
than a bum on a swirly seat ever could.

Carl Burkitt 2024