The video on the internet is telling me to
do three simple moves to stop me
getting tight hips with age. So I try them.
I stretch my legs out and try to touch my toes
with my fingers. My hip creaks like a spring
on a 1990s pogo stick. I hear nameless friends
moaning how they’ve waited ages for a go
and the stream next to my house is once again
too big and filthy to jump across. I wiggle
my fingers to get closer still and I’m learning
to ride a bike. The path down the street is
a fist I don’t want to punch me so I concentrate.
I stretch for a third time and my hip cries
as I feel my toenails and I am born again
in a hospital with grey walls and two hearts
prepared to give one more body everything it needs.

Carl Burkitt 2024