His palms are soft and from the past.
His daughter works in childcare.
She is only 19 and is a senior member.
She doesn’t have a partner
and definitely doesn’t want children.
She used to sit on Tony’s lap
and play with his grey stubble
and nibble on the end of his chippy tea chips.
She’s just like her mother.
It’s lovely how much she listens
and puts her arms around shoulders.
She smells like peaches.
Her cheek bones will never stop.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Written using sentences found by searching
for ‘punch’ in my WhatsApp search bar

I had an instant hot flush
and punch in the gut feeling.
It’s not every day you get punched
in the arm by some random bloke in Sainsburys.
He punched me in the heart.
The punching nun puppet?
It’s amazing what you can do
with pipe cleaners and a hole punch,
hard liquor and a punching bag.
I’m pretty confident
you’ll never actually punch him.
Want to punch my kisses?

© Carl Burkitt 2021

and your knuckles are summer rain
hitting against the roof.
I’ve never taught you how to punch,
it’s as natural as skin.
There will come a time
when you ask me questions
about where I go on a Monday night
and I will say
Sometimes we are our own storm
and a stranger’s ears can be umbrellas
and you will probably ask for a Cheestring.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

There is a black and white cow
standing in the middle of a field
of grass and too many buttercups
to count. The sky looks like an advert
for the sky: a block of baby blue
and plump white clouds.
A red car is driving past,
the inside of the roof is grey.
There is a dark green sock,
roughly three inches long, lying across
the forehead of a dog with the words
‘hand’, ‘foot’ and ‘music’
written on three of its paws.
My skin is miserable and I don’t know why.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Written using sentences found by searching
for ‘time’ in my WhatsApp search bar

Are you having a nice time?
We’re having a lovely time.
That sounds like a lovely time.
Glad you’re having a good time.
It looks like you’re having a fun tome.
Is now a good time?
He’s had a tough time.
We don’t have enough time.
There’s just no time.
We’re out of time.
I hope I didn’t waste your time.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

People say Nice pegs
when they see you now.
They ask how many you have
in that mouth and wonder
if your mum is OK.
They tell me to enjoy this time,
don’t wish it away. They say
things will never be as easy as this
and you fall
face first on to a tiled floor
and your bottom teeth
introduce your blood to the world.
The pain is water
flowing into every gap it can find.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I rearranged the moles on my arm,
folded the window like a newspaper,
changed my eyes for lightbulbs,
melted the blinds into a pork pie,
posted the tiles to a badger,
sold the soap for bigger shoulders
then wrote your eulogy
filled with things only you would understand,
like the punch of mint shower gel
making a cracked scalp scream,
and sent you a text saying Hi.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Written using sentences found by searching
for ‘clown’ in my WhatsApp search bar

Have you seen the clowns?
Couple of clowns outside where we got married.
The absolute clowns.
The clean shaven long haired clowns.
The stupid clowns.
I’ve asked everyone except you clowns.
I’m just clowning, no stress,
like having a neighbour who’s really into clowns
and, also, your grandfather was murdered by a clown.
She’s a clown.
He’s a clown.
It turns out, I’m a clown.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Abnormal load
was written
on the back
of the white van
passing sheep
whispering in the fields
nodding at the skeleton
sitting in a red Fiesta
pretending to be a gorilla
for a speechless firework.

© Carl Burkitt 2021