After Roger Robinson

Swimming underneath the freshly crisp
crust of a crème brûlée with a straw.

The man with biceps on his biceps
in the gym changing room singing along to
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun on Smooth Radio.
His socks are even whiter than his teeth.

A previously unseen directors cut
of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy.
Each one is 17 hours long. I’m alone.
The sofa is a cricodiles mouth.

“Why are dolphins not fish?”
“Why do toilets have water in them?”
“Why do I have lips?”

An endless sudden phone call in Southampton.
I’m sitting on a windowsill of the room
above a house party of people
unaware this life is over.

The memory of the man
who has never met my child
but remember’s my child name
because he has chosen to be someone
who treasures what people treasure.

“Here’s your salted popcorn
and large peppermint tea, sir.
Enjoy the film.”

Carl Burkitt 2026