When love leaves

I shall write a lot more poetry; enough to fill
the library at Alexandria. And I will read much more:
at least one anthology of Billy Collins
and everything that Neil Gaiman has written.

When things get tough from time to time
I will take refuge in a lemon and all the rest
of Pablo Neruda, without whom I would be nothing.
I may even return to the science fantasy of my youth.

I will eat well and make time each day
for aerobic exercise. And I will sleep much more:
at least the recommended daily dose
and not too late on Saturdays I’ll fill productively.

I’ll work as hard as I can to the best of my ability
at a job I hate. And I will achieve modest success,
although I doubt that anyone will care
a thousand years from now (and maybe less than that).

I will try to follow the advice of the Foresight report
as summarised in The Times of London, which tells me
to connect, be active and curious and learn and give.
So I will make a lot of lists to guide me as I go.

There’s much that I can do. I’ll fix my wheelchair,
learn how to bend blue notes on the chromatic harp,
complete the latest edit of my unpublishable novel,
sail, visit art galleries and read star maps in situ.

I will be kind to old ladies and mindful of others
at all times (although I may have to count to ten
now and again). And if some people say he lives
a decent life, a good one; I shall not contradict them.