According to their email
there is a seat waiting with my name on.
I could go anywhere
for just a few quid, except here
where the hills are thumbs up
and blue tractors pop to the shops for milk,
a place where the roads are spaghetti
and the sheep have never heard of bills.
There’s a tree here with apples
who nod their heads hello
when you arrive.
I’m not sure how we got here
but I’m sure it involved sweat and tears.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

I mishear a kid’s song
and see you in a cartoon cloud
yelling at my thoughts to change
before it’s too late.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

Careful. Slowly. Hold on to the side.
Careful. Gently. Use your hands.
We don’t need to do that. Careful.
Gently. Hold on. Slowly. Careful.
On and on we talk to ourselves
hoping not to hurt ourselves again.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

I’m crossing my fingers
they call out to you, mate,
break from their shells,
wave, smile, laugh, anything
your fellow humans are refusing
to do to you down aisle 12.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

I’m watching
eight young men with red cheeks
and somber faces concentrating
as they carry a lifetime on their shoulder.
A dad is holding a sword
instead of the hand of his son.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

From the rusty bricked bridge
you are a view from the TV show Virgin River.
The sun has decided to float
above the water, shine a light on the stillness
and ignore the drama of the locals,
for now.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

Its sign is the mouth of a parent
learning how to communicate.
Today I watched a man
pour a packet of salt over his chips
and then a packet of salt over his sandwich
and I could see the magic trick
of my mum’s thumb being held over
the salt shaker hole pretending
to season my basket of scampi.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

Lucky Stanley, I say,
to no-one old enough to understand.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

She’s talking about a dog
with an artistry her tongue takes for granted.
I know a plasterer who doesn’t know his arms
move smoother than a shooting star.
A football player on TV just welcomed a ball
on to the inside of his foot kicked from 70 yards away
softer than a parent waving goodbye to their child
as they pull out of the drive for the first time.
I watched a man volley an empty can of Coke
into a public bin a few years ago, he just walked
away to catch a bus and now he lives in my bones
whenever I feel I have nothing to do with my days.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

He is the size of a pedal bin.
He doesn’t need his grapes cut in half
but he prefers to eat them that way.
He is 4,000 years old and knows everything.
His leggings have a puffin, a cheetah
and a zebra on them. His skin is as smooth
as his bum and he is one day old.
He’s asleep. His brain is figuring out
how he will be awake in a different town
and one day he will rule the world.

© Carl Burkitt 2022