The public noticeboard in the cafe was stuffed
with lads willing to walk dogs, gyms set to open,
yoga experts, local theatre groups recruiting
people to tread the boards, slimming groups.
In the middle of the posters designed with
varying degrees of expertise was a hand written
scrap of paper: CLEANER, PREPARED FOR IT ALL.
I drafted an email on my phone explaining
I needed someone
to climb in and sort out the bit between my ears,
to tidy up the surfaces, declutter the drawers
to allow them to open up more easily. I typed
how I needed someone
to take charge of the heavy dust, stubborn stains.
And, like all emails that change the world,
I left it in the drafts folder for a few days.

Carl Burkitt 2024