Curiosity has its own reason for existing.
I can’t remember who said that.
When I was having lunch in IKEA last week
I saw the high chair we own
and thought, They must’ve got that from IKEA.
I have a scar on my right arm
after a blonde curly boy sliced it
with the blade of a pencil sharpener
before football training.
He said, Stick your arm out, so I did.
When my wife left Timpson today
with two new keys after two minutes
I thought, Nice one.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Do you ever not recognise your footprints?
Do you ever run your hands through your hair
and wonder when you put a hat on?
Do you ever catch yourself thinking hurtful things
you can’t believe you’re having about a stranger
and discover it’s you in a shop window?
I looked at my wrist for the time today
and I’ve not worn a watch for five years.
Sometimes my skin is on so tight
I wonder if I’m a vacuum packed ham
or waiting to be born.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I’m watching a man
doing a handstand
on a set of dumbbells
through my mobile phone
and I can remember the day
the checkout guy at Argos
asked if I wanted to upgrade
to home delivery
when he saw me attempt
to carry the box of weights
I’d just purchased out of the shop
but I said no and now I have a son
and a bad back.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Peppa Pig never says please.
She’s incredibly impatient
and believes jumping in puddles
is the only gender neutral game out there.
I’m watching Daddy Pig doing a fun run
with an orange flavoured ice lolly in his trotter.
He’s just eaten three bowls of spaghetti
and the whole town is laughing at him.
There’s been a mix up
with the white football tops and a little red dress
in the washing machine
and my son is staring out the window
at a skip filled with concrete.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

A hand-scribbled note
on the back of the door
is telling me to Never forget
and the second half
is too smudged to read
and my left forearm
has a golf ball sized bruise
that looks like a galaxy
if you squint
and no one knows
how it got there.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Over and over again.
Over and over again.
We’ve done it.
We’ve done it.
Over and over again.
We’ve done it.
Over and over again.
It’s not getting easier.
But we’ve done it.
Over and over again.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

not understanding your skin
or the way you don’t like cold porridge
or the dog that’s too loud
or the eggs that don’t match
or the taste of banana
or how the high chair is not high enough
I’m eating at a steakhouse menu
wondering how many cows
didn’t like standing on cold metal.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

He sits on the play mat,
centre stage,
pointing at the audience of crumbs
and floorboard eyes
and stained cushions
and the roof of a secondhand furniture shop
and the TV remote under the plastic snail,
spitting out the sounds
of a person inventing language.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

The world is a terrifying place
when Huw Edwards is on mute.

© Carl Burkitt 2021