Cool dads do not exist in this house.
We take off our tops and beat our chests
pretending to be gorillas
managing a breakfast cafe
if it means getting cereal into you
without a fight.
We sit on train station toilet floors
transcribing the hedgehog story you must capture
if it means you’ll take a dump
before we go for a walk.
We worry and moan and cry and scream
and punch and tear at our skin
behind closed doors
if it means turning your mouth
into a hot air balloon smile
floating you towards sun and only sun.

Carl Burkitt 2024

Written while listening to ‘Float On’ by Modest Mouse.