The Difference Between a Dog and a Biscuit Tin
By Karl Knights
It’s Boxing Day and I’m nearly ten and a half.
I got the camouflaged Action Man for Christmas.
I told Mum I wanted to open it on my own,
but my special scissors won’t cut the plastic.
Just as I start to stick my tongue out and sweat,
Mum calls my name from the front room.
I shuffle down the stairs on my bum.
Mum says I should use the stairlift.
She taps me on the shoulder and says
‘Look at the telly! This film’s got a boy like you.
See? He even flaps his hands like you. He’s called Kyle.’
On the screen a man and a woman stand
in a kitchen that looks bigger than ours.
Her scarf is the same colour as my blue badge.
The man rubs his face with his big hands and says
Whatever happened Nic, whatever happened to us?
Kyle happened. Mum tells me to pay attention
but the screen’s too bright. The man is now standing
in front of a house that posh people have.
He shouts too loudly, For God’s sake it’s autism,
he doesn’t know what love is.
He can’t tell the difference
between a dog and a biscuit tin.
Mum pulls my hands from my ears
and points toward the person she thinks I am.
Copyright Credit: Karl Knights, "The Difference Between a Dog and a Biscuit Tin" from Kin. Copyright © 2022 by Karl Knights. Reprinted by permission of The Poetry Business.
Source: Kin (The Poetry Business, 2022)