When 6 foot 8 Reginald woke up
and found himself to be 1 inch tall,
he was delighted.
“Look at all of this leg room!” he squealed,
looking down at his Queen sized bed.

Reginald kicked his legs up and down.
He waved his limbs around to make duvet angels.
He stood on his tiptoes, reached out his arms and giggled at being nowhere near
the ceiling.

Reginald was in his element.
He danced and sang
and roly-polied the morning away
until his wife came in search for him.

Unable to hear her husband’s tiny yelps,
or see his miniature gestures,
she sat down on the bed, bemused,
and swallowed him whole.

Reginald sniggered as he suffocated to death
inside the one place he was always forbidden.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

Jemima’s favourite cat died.
She held a funeral in her garden
but no-one attended.*

* because she had ostracised all of her mates

© Carl Burkitt 2013

Jesus’s mortgage advisor was
dead chuffed with himself.
“We’re almost there now, sir,” he smiled.
“Just a few I’s left to dot and T’s to cross…”
An awkward silence hung in the air
as the mortgage advisor
squirmed in his chair.

Jesus laughed.
“OK, Tony,” he said.
“And then I can finally stop being a thorn in your side!”

The pair chuckled and clinked their coffees
before Jesus finished his tuna sandwich.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

The sun was shining
as Marcus dived into the pint of cider.
He smiled as he enjoyed the sweet taste of apples,
before joining the rest of his family
in wasp heaven.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

Darren was a bit of a lad.

He loved necking pints,
starting fights,
and slapping female bums.

He once built a wall with his bare hands
just so he could kick it down.

I saw him smash a glass in a pub by accident one night
and not even tell a member of staff.

He was tough.

If he was a biscuit
he would definitely have been a HobNob.
A concrete covered HobNob.

Last Mother’s Day
Darren wrote his mum a poem.

It read: “Mother, your beauty is beyond compare;
I mean the beauty that’s within in you,
not just your hair.
You’re a woman I admire,
Full of love and desire,
And you’re so thoughtful and gentle and fair.”

A silence hung in the air
as Darren waited for his Mother’s reaction to the limerick,
and it was as soon as the laughter left her lips
that Darren dropped dead from a broken heart.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

Silvia was having the most wonderful dream
in which by day she was a celebrity dentist;
fixing the teeth of A-Listers,
giving sugar-free lollies to the good boys and girls,
and making the whole world smile,

Whilst by night she was a fish;
swimming through the beautiful blue ocean,
dancing with the dolphins
and laughing with the crabs.

But like all good things,
Silvia’s dream came to an end
as she awoke from her slumber;
still the same old blob of freshwater bacteria
stuck to the side of the tropical tank
in Hackney’s Dental Practice.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

There once was a man who repeated himself.
There once was a man who repeated himself.
He tried hard to quit.
He tried hard to quit.
There once was a man who repeated himself.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

Your daughter’s boyfriends
Always called you Big Bad Mike.
You bloody loved it.

*

Hands like dinner plates.
Fingers like cooked sausages.
A heart like soft mash.

*

I would do pull-ups
Using your arm as the bar.
I grew, you stayed still.

*

You kiss my mother
Every day of the week.
I shan’t forget that.

*

You taught me to pun,
Like a leopard taught to run.
Try and spot the joke.

*

Buttering the bread
With your six-year-old grandson,
Unsure who’s in charge.

*

Red Jelly Baby
Left in the pack ’til the end.
One tasty murder.

© Carl Burkitt 2013