Sometimes,
waking up
is doing your best.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

They hug
and slap each other’s backs
like shovels to the final dirt
chucked on top of graves.
They let go,
thick necks and soft eyes
directly opposite each other.
They don’t
say a word. They head
to the bar and spend five minutes
joking with the staff;
fingerprints tingle on spines.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Pardon?
Coated almonds.
What?
Coated almonds.
What?
Chocolate coated almonds.
Huh?
It went on and on and on
until almonds became air
and Waitrose melted into soil
and the couple became fish
that grew legs and pointed
at the sun in awe.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

She checks her receipt next to the till.
She looks at the red peppers, white onions,
celery, broccoli, eggs, cheese, tomatoes,
tiger rolls, avocados, olive oil, Greek yogurt,
and salt and vinegar Pringles
in her supermarket’s anniversary tote bag
and then back at the words typed
on the bit of paper that is as thin
as her confidence in strangers.
It’s all fine, she thinks, and heads off
to remember when things like shopping
were as simple as waking up.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

The man reversed the sixteen wheel lorry
down an alley with no-one helping him.
The lady at number 31 grew plants from the ground.
The sky was above all of our heads
with nothing supporting its weight.
A bird grabbed a worm without touching the floor.
ASDA had a broccoli.
Two strangers high-fived.
A baby found his nose when asked where it was.
Cats existed. Dogs existed. You existed.
The walls didn’t cave in for a bit.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

It knows what you want for Christmas
and sits back as the stars shine.
The moon gives you one too many sweets.
It forgets the beige jacket it popped
on the banister two hours earlier.
The moon is in charge of its knees
and can’t pronounce all of the names
of the players on its favourite football team.
The moon blinks more than it used to.
It can’t drive in the dark and wishes
it could have one more sugar in its cup of tea.
The moon is exhausted and wants to know
all about the new game you’re playing.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

The poster above the toilet
is telling me to sort out my erectile dysfunction.
It’s using fun language and puns
to make me feel relaxed. My smoothie
said hello to me earlier. The dustbin
with the filthy mouth thanked me
for throwing a teabag in its stomach.
A petrol pump asked if I needed any assistance.
There are no nods from strangers today.
No half waves, no eyebrows raised.
The objects are in charge.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

It’s not a pit stop
it’s a garage carved into a hill.
It’s not a Cornish pasty
it’s pastry covering sunshine.
It’s not a toilet break
it’s knees remembering they are alive.
It’s not a bunch of energy drinks
it’s liquid disappearance into oneself.
It’s not a B and B, it’s a bunch of rooms
tethered by a special occasion.
It’s not nighttime, it’s daytime
covered in the darkness of nighttime
and the fear of being forgotten
by the collection of skin
that pushed a toy train across a train track
while we pretended we needed a weekend
away from you.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

There are two bins outside the train station,
one by each entrance. Or exit, depending on how
you look at where it is you’re going. I’m stood
at the traffic lights, my thin boots are letting me
feel the tiles of bumps made to tell people
where the curb ends. There’s a big poster
stuck to the side of the railway bridge to my right
with a number to call if you want to end your life.
When it feels like no one is looking out
for each other any more I think about
the little sticker on the back of my jelly beans
for me to re-seal the packet, or notebooks
with the ribbon bookmark sewn into the spine.
It’s all I can do.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

He’s cleaning the window of the door
dressed in a freshly pressed three piece suit
and a green, white and red bow tie.
He’s welcoming people with doughy eyes. Pizzas are cooking behind him,
guests are looking at lunch menus,
the floor tiles are smiling celebrity teeth.
He is looking out at the street,
each squeak of his squeegee
improving the view inside and out.

© Carl Burkitt 2021