if I had a name like Butch or Randy
or I wasn’t shaped like an uppercase i
or I had a name like Captain Big Boy
or music played when I won arguments
or I had a name like Dumpster Truck Junior
or my hair looked good when wet
or I had a name like Josh Hardmouth
or I wasn’t convinced I was a bad guy
even when the crowd chanted my name with love.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

The babies are having a conference call.
They have so much to say.
The one with the deep voice
is booming through the screen
to the screeching backdrop
of the high pitched one
and the raspberry blowing one
and the waffling other one.
They have so much to say
these conference call babies.
Ours is sat with his mouth
the shape of a black hole
swallowing every noise and colour.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

It wasn’t a ghost postman
delivering letters from the dead.
It wasn’t an invisible menu dropper
letting us know about the latest
zero calorie pizza from Crust Begone.
It wasn’t the combined air
of the local foxes laughing
about the state of our front garden.
It wasn’t a sigh from my self esteem
wondering why I was still in yesterday’s pants.
It wasn’t a tut from my to do list.
It wasn’t the huff of a miserable goalkeeper.
It was just a gust of wind
opening and closing our gate,
reminding me of your chatty jaw.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

What do you think
our photographs of people are?
2D ghosts?
Shit TV?
Pink shadows?
Broken iPhones?
Miniature rude
family members
ignoring your
smiles and screams?
You look at them
with an old fashioned awe.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I’ve never seen your shorts in the dark,
but pushing your trolley with headlights
you deserve to puff out
your orange hi-vis chest
and have the lick
of a first class pat on the back.
I’ve never read a letter
after eating my dinner
but I bet it would taste sweet
to spoon the thoughts
of a late night loved one
into my toothless eyes.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

A poem with each line using
the title of a book piled on my desk.

Sometimes I’m so happy I’m not safe on the streets,
a small fiction.
Poor,
arbitrary and unnecessary
fury;
the problem with men
on connection.
My family and other superheroes,
finished creatures,
dancing by the light of the moon.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

The pack
of Doritos
said SHARE
and we both
opened up.
It was cool.
It was original.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

There’s a bear in my house
who says Heart
when you squeeze its chest.
Its ears make it sing.
Its favourite colour is blue,
its favourite colour is red,
its favourite colour is green
depending on what paw you press.
It’s covered in drool,
it has a crinkly stomach,
and it never stops smiling.
I hope it’s OK on its own at night.

© Carl Burkitt 2021