Spider-Man is pulling weeds out
of the ground. He’s been pottering
round the garden all morning
using his otherworldly strength
to pick dandelions for his Nana’s tortoise
in between falling down on his trampoline,
missing penalties in open goals,
giving names to sunflower seeds.
The sun has been kind to him today
and his giggle is out singing the birds,
let alone hiding the dread
that he might soon need a wee and doesn’t know
how to take his all-in-one suit off by himself.

Carl Burkitt 2025