A natty tuxedo

James Bond started following me.
I first noticed him in the precinct on my way to ASDA
and he walked behind me into Oxfam
and eventually Costa. He was wearing
a natty tuxedo and had a kind of pistol, I suppose.
I was trying to see if he had any gadgets
like exploding pens or a redeemable personality
but he was sort of just staggering around
with Martini-breath. I’m sure
there were other references I missed
because I’m not really a fan of the franchise.

Carl Burkitt 2025

Today I miss everyone who has made me feel

like the health and safety instructor in my old job who bent his knees to pick up a box and farted or the under 12s football coach who called me ‘Legs’ because of a last-ditch sliding tackle I made or the boy at my son’s school who said I’m an embarrassing dad or the uncle who admitted he gets sad sometimes or the baby I saw nibbling a watermelon slice with her toes instead of her teeth or the dad who had to say goodbye to his 16-year-old son in a crematorium surrounded by 16-year-olds unsure how they got there or the dog in the local pub who eats Mini Cheddars.

Carl Burkitt 2025

You Give Me

your apple cores
your leftover cold egg
your empty Pom-Bear packets
your mispronounced words
your vomiting bugs
your soil bugs
your soiling my pants bugs
your fingertips pointing at new
your whispers
your explosions
your
everything 

Carl Burkitt 2025

In control

My son brought a TV control on to this tram. 
He’s pressing play as we leave each station 
and pause when we stop at the next. 
When he presses rewind I think back to a time 
when I forgot to look at public transport 
like mechanical animals 
designed to help us explore their wild 
or treat the opportunity to a window seat 
with the excitement of being born.
I’m wearing a green hat and green shoes
because two years ago I said I liked
the green lights on our Christmas tree
and now my son tells everyone its my favourite colour.
He’s just pressed fast forward
and he’s eating mint choc chip ice cream
standing on the grass by my gravestone.
 
Carl Burkitt 2025

Poo on the playground 

There’s a poo on the playground.
The kids are guessing
whether it’s cat, dog, or human.
A lot of them want to touch it.
A few of them wonder
if it’s from the bottom of a monster
or one of their teachers.
The monsters deny it.
The teachers put cones around it.
A mum runs a pram wheel through it. 

Carl Burkitt 2025

But I can see

There’s a new wooden toilet seat
in the pub’s men’s room and I’m realising
I am starting to notice things again.
Like, how Two Halves Pete is called Two Halves Pete
because he always order to half pints of ale
or how the hat rack in the corner of the room is
made from old coat hangers
or how the barman has a tattoo that I want.
The say antidepressants can flatten you out
and that was the reason I put of Sertraline
for more years than was safe for me.
But I can see the beauty in tarmac again,
the way it looks like a belt
I will wear to a special occasion one day
celebrating my adult son,
or the tongue of a giraffe – our favourite animal.

Carl Burkitt 2025