Peter was fed up with walking to work,
so yesterday he decided to take the bus.
As soon as the bus crashed and he died,
his ghost blushed its way up to heaven.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

The taxidermist died.
His family mourned
and gave him a pretty standard funeral, really.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

The twenty nine foot bloke
ordered an organic sandwich.
When it arrived it was far too small,
so he trashed the funky cafe
and swallowed six hipsters.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

His hands were great.
They could build,
they could break,
they could take
my pain away.

They could dig,
they could bruise,
they could sooth
my soul today.

He hand the hands of a fighter
but his touch was much lighter;
as he held me,
and stroked me,
and choked my
problems away.

They day his hands left
I’ll always regret;
as my actions put gloves
on his love.
I can’t reach them,
I can’t kiss them,
my body can do nothing
but miss them.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

Sean bagged himself a trophy wife.
He booked an open top bus to parade around town
and lifted her above his head
by her massive ears.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

Monty died for the tenth time.
He thanked the Gods for his survival
and began pondering what other lies
the human race had spread about his kind.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

The man fell in love with the woman.
The woman didn’t fall in love with the man.
The man changed every single, possible thing about himself.
The woman fell in love with the man.
The man felt smothered and fucked a prostitute.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

Come gather fools, come gather I say,
For today is the day the lovers will play.
Some will be straight and some will be gay,
But all will be filthy on Valentine’s Day.

Legs will be splayed for every card that is made,
Whilst the bored are unleashed and deliciously depraved.
Tits will be licked and pricks will be pricked,
Whilst chocolate is spread on a whole host of dicks.
Pulses will race and genitals shall cry
As lovers pound each other and splurge in their eyes.

Young hearts so grateful for their thoughtful, cheap gift,
Sweet nothings they shall whisper as their spirits lift:
“Flick that and fist this and give those holes a big old kiss,
Then grab the whip and grab the chains
And you make sure I never walk again.
Go on my sweet – you horrid old
Fucker – squeeze this bit, bend me over,
And let me thank you, for that yummy Yakisoba.”

© Carl Burkitt 2014

The tired kitty walked into the room.
She yawned and looked at the surrounding humans.

One man put tonnes of brown liquid in his mouth,
Another was dribbling on the sofa.

Some girls wiggled their bodies to strange loud sounds,
Two were being sick off the balcony.

A snoring man had his eyebrows shaved off,
Another man did a wee in a glass.

A woman was slapping a crying man’s face,
Another flashed her boobies to the room.

Two boys wrestled and smashed glasses on the floor,
Another two took photos up girls’ skirts.

‘Funny old bunch,’ the tired kitty thought,
As her brother licked her arsehole clean.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

It was the chocolate cake’s 4th birthday.
The lights went out and his family began to sing
as his father carried in a human baby;
its guts riddled with burning candles.

The baby screamed as melting wax dropped on to its skin
before the birthday boy
blew out the flames to an
almighty applause.

The father chopped off the baby’s arms, legs and head,
diced up its torso and
handed it out to the crowd.
All of the elders bitched about how sweet the flesh tasted
and how they preferred jam
over blood.

© Carl Burkitt 2014