The men were spreading
cement across the ground
like Marmite on toast,
after-sun on pink skin,
fake compliments at meetings.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

It took its time
slowly cutting
through gum
without a drop
of blood.
It’s rough,
ready to learn
the difference
between
milk and gravy,
lunch and dinner,
bark and bite.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

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

Did you look like Robbie
from Junior Bake Off when you were young?
My teeth don’t meet when I bite down.
Whenever you like!
I’m up for lunch when I’m back.
Please can you let me know when you leave.
They call me when he’s ready.
When we’re allowed, it’ll be lovely.
I can send a link when we’re back.
When’s a good time?
When’s your last day?
Let me know when you are free.
I’m alright, I’ll be glad when it’s over.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

He’s never said a good word.
He’s never had a shower.
He’s never grown a beard.
He’s never been on a bus.
He’s never whistled.
He’s never lost his keys.
He’s never had keys.
He’s never been drunk.
He’s never read a headline.
He’s never eaten bread and cheese.
He’s never said a bad word
and let it curdle in his brain
until he’s a puddle of custard in bed.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I used to enjoy watching you
at a family buffet: casually entering
from the opposite entrance to everyone else,
gently observing the sausage rolls
on one perfectly balanced foot
like an inquisitive good cop.
Once they passed inspection
you’d scoop three on to your plate
and move down the trestle table line up
repeating the process with the crisps,
the scotch eggs, the quiche, the nuts, etc.
After a hard minute’s work, satisfied
you’d covered every inch of the scene,
you’d plod back to your chair
hiding the evidence of a ham sandwich.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Your head looks like Zinedine Zidane’s.
You have no socks on your feet,
showing off the softest touch.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I’m learning
to sleep
on the edge,
creating
space
for when you
decide to
jump in
and tell us
about everything
you’re scared
of.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

After Terrance Hayes

Let me begin again. We were
a couple of boiled eggs looking for a soldier,
a determined collection of crumbs
who knows what they want. Let me begin again.
We were ducks. Let me begin again.
We ordered vegetarian duck and chose a film
to sleep to. Let me begin again. We never met.
I stayed in the past wearing unopened skin
but you still had hands the size of diggers
scooping voices into your ears. Let me
begin again. You offered me some cake.
Let me begin again. You offered me
some lemon drizzle cake.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

I’m listening to an interview
with Kasper Schmeichel
about high performance
and winning the Premier League
and he’s still my age
and his hands are massive
and his head is handsome
and his accent is dreamy
and you’re still not here.

© Carl Burkitt 2021