you say
I have the potential to do amazing things
and the letters smile,
grow legs and whisper their way
around the board to spell
More than you realise.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

He’s pretty tall.
He sings in the shower.
He talks a lot about his goal at The County Ground.
He thinks his beard is nice.
He talks a lot about his goal at The County Ground.
He really likes Pringles.
He cries a lot at films.
He doesn’t like coconuts.
He makes decent fried eggs.
He cries a lot at adverts.
He think his scrambled eggs are good.
He cries a lot at books.
He likes Mum a fair bit.
He cries a lot when he thinks I’m not looking.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

A shark used to swim
through my veins.
I could feel its fins
against my bones.
It never slept,
until it slept forever.
I miss it sometimes
and feel guilty
for even thinking about it.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

I’d bite anything
if it was made of fingernails.
Right down to the cuticles.
I’d happily swim in judgement
as I nibbled a translucent puppy,
a crunchy postbox.
Imagine the filth underneath a sofa
made of fingernails.
It would taste like pudding to me
in a world of stress relief.

© Carl Burkitt 2020