She nestles
into the stomach of her mum
three years after she left it.
She’s worried about the musician
on stage playing music for sad people.
Her eyes are an open grey cloud.
She picks up a pack of blue,
red, yellow and green crayons
and struggles to draw a full rainbow.
Carl Burkitt 2024
Earwig on your friend
making up a bedtime story
to appreciate their true brain
and your child’s natural manners.
Carl Burkitt 2024
The man in the pub’s mouth is talking about retiring. Grey stubble sits on a chin that’s taken plenty of knocks and his slip-on shoes have decided to get a taxi home safely tonight. His smile is a blank sheet of paper. His blue eyes catch mine and I’m 14 years old warming up for 90 minutes at centre back wondering if a girl will ever kiss my lips. He thanks me for keeping him company this afternoon and we exchange names. He says he’s never met a Carl with a C before and I decide to smile and not to tell him how he’s got your name but not your dead body.
Carl Burkitt 2024
Erling Haaland is fed up
with shooting practice
and has decided to cut the grass
with a plastic lawnmower.
His knuckles are tight
around the handle bars.
His blonde hair is proud
to move in the slight breeze
while his feet feel free.
The grass is grateful
for the fake blades.
Erling Haaland stops for
a drink of water, before returning
to making a difference.
Carl Burkitt 2024
A shattered spiderweb
Too soon snowflake
Cracked fingers stretching
Flattened angel
Ghost of a butterfly
Crash pad for emotions
See through rage
An insecure fist
A chance to start again
Carl Burkitt 2024
It’s a heatwave.
Erling Haaland is reading
LEGO instruction manuals
in the backseat of a Ford Fiesta.
He’s flicking through the pages
imagining putting “that one there,
that one there, that one there”.
He’s singing along
to the official Wonka soundtrack
and dancing to the beat
of his own.
Carl Burkitt 2024
The video on the internet is telling me to
do three simple moves to stop me
getting tight hips with age. So I try them.
I stretch my legs out and try to touch my toes
with my fingers. My hip creaks like a spring
on a 1990s pogo stick. I hear nameless friends
moaning how they’ve waited ages for a go
and the stream next to my house is once again
too big and filthy to jump across. I wiggle
my fingers to get closer still and I’m learning
to ride a bike. The path down the street is
a fist I don’t want to punch me so I concentrate.
I stretch for a third time and my hip cries
as I feel my toenails and I am born again
in a hospital with grey walls and two hearts
prepared to give one more body everything it needs.
Carl Burkitt 2024
Your see-through skin
let’s me know what’s happening
in your heart
when I cannot step in:
dogs eating Mini Cheddars,
ale recommendations,
arguments over the best way
to cook liver between
men who have never cooked
dinner before, relentless lower
league football opinions,
vegetarian pie scepticism,
spliced crisp packet sharing,
relentless piss-taking, reluctant
opening up and hands on shoulders.
Carl Burkitt 2024
The London pigeon was
flying directly towards me.
I didn’t move out of the way.
It didn’t move out of the way.
I didn’t move.
It didn’t move.
We didn’t move.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us m e
v
o
d.
Carl Burkitt 2024
Bob was born behind Blackpool Tower.
He quickly got used to sleeping
on wet concrete and chewing scraps
from bins with the crooked teeth
in his smiling overbite. His hair is
a grubby white, his eyes have seen
a few dark summers. “Half pug,
half shih tzu,” Bob’s owner says
encouraging his best friend to get
out of the spiky bush and enjoy the cricket
ground us humans are gossiping on.
“He loves it here,” Bob’s owner says,
looking down at the mud on his own jeans,
“…and it gets me out of the house,”
he continues, as the meaning of the words
‘rescue dog’ grows legs and runs.
Carl Burkitt 2024
Carl tells tales 