If I was in charge
of the world for one day,
the one change I would make
is I would step down
from being in charge
of the world.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “If you were asked to be in charge of the world for a day, what kinds of changes would you make?”

I was sitting in a pizza restaurant and felt something moving around my knees. When I lifted up the edge of the tablecloth I saw a small animal looking at me. In a raspy voice, it whispered, “Hide me!”. Naturally, I punched the daemon square in the jaw until it died and hid the evidence in my scarf before finishing the last slice of my vegetarian delight.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “You’re sitting at a table in the back of a pizza restaurant, when you feel something moving around your knees. You lift up the edge of the tablecloth to see a small animal that looks at you. In a raspy voice, it whispers, “Hide me!”.

I was offered a personal servant, but the catch was it had to be a monster. You know, as in a werewolf or a mummy. A proper monster. I toyed with the idea of picking my devious step-uncle, but decided to keep the game light and chose the dog skeleton from that TV show Funnybones. It was shit. Couldn’t even carry a mug of tea to my bedroom.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “You get to have a personal servant, but you can only choose from a selection of monsters. Do you want the mummy? The werewolf? The Loch Ness Monster?”

If you loved me,
you’d find a way
to rescue me.

If it was me
holding you,
you know I’d
never let you go.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “Write from a balloon’s perspective after being released into the air.”

When I woke up with a tail, it was weird. But it came in handy for lots of little jobs: Picking food out of my teeth, swatting flies, hanging from a tree to impress the ladies, wiping finger prints off guns. You know, the usual.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “One day you sprout a tail. What do you use it for?”

You’re thinking: ‘Could I fit in his mouth?’
The answer’s yes. I could definitely fit you in my mouth.
I wouldn’t do it though.
I promise.
Come ‘ere.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “Write a poem from the point of view of a lion at the zoo.”

“Would you rather fly like a bird or breathe underwater like a shark?” asked the wise, old wizard.

“Fly like a bird, obviously,” I replied.

“Very good,” he said as wings appeared on my back. “Next question. Would you rather watch your parents have sex every day or join in just the once?”

“I don’t want to play anymore.”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION!” he yelled, aggressively pointing his wand in my face.

“I…I guess I’d join in just the once…”

“Very good,” he said as my dad beckoned me to his bedroom.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “You meet an old wizard who offers you the power to fly like a bird or swim and breathe underwater like a shark.”

I woke up and she was gone.
The lamp was gone, too.
I couldn’t believe she took the lamp.
And the bedside table.
Then I spotted she’d taken the wardrobe as well.
And the chest of drawers.
She’d even taken the bloody bed!
Then I realised I’d woken up in the living room.
Haha.
She had left me though.
That’s why I was waking up on the living room floor,
on a Tuesday lunchtime, blind drunk.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “One morning, everything is different.”

Dearest horse,
I love you, of course.
I love your hair that’s coarse
and how you make my throat hoarse
through joy of course,
laughing around our little race course.
I’m not a very good poet, of course,
but I’m a cowboy
and I love my horse so much
I’m going to call myself a horseboy
because I love my horse, of course.

© Carl Burkitt 2018

642 Challenge: “You are a cowboy. Write a poem to your horse.”