Erling Haaland does not enjoy giant marshmallows,
the kind you can buy from multipurpose shops,
you know, the type of place in a warehouse
sized building selling everything from
48 packs of Wotsits to wooden garden furniture.
He prefers miniature marshmallows.
The kind from a shop he knows and trusts.
He sits on the sofa and flicks them, one-by-one,
into his mouth shouting GOAL as he chews.

Carl Burkitt 2024