Things I must do to stop myself from doing nothing
phone Greg to talk about the Vietnam War
e – mail the Prime Minister & tell him
to get out of Iraq get into Aceh
sign the Kyoto protocol save the planet,
make love athletically astonish the neighbours
go to the coffee lounge
eat a stale apple crumble drink milk coffee,
eyeball the sluggish grounds sneering
from the bottom of the cup,
read each article in the daily telegraph
walk to the park to grumble
at the young men in jeans
slashing the concrete with their steel blades,
talk with the sweaty old men on the seats
who recognise me & offer a bottle
that smells of pee & paint stripper,
nag my son about math & become my father
for a few seconds before subsiding into myself,
throw a ball for the dog & pick up dogshit
because the lady from next door
is watching through the slats of her pink Venetian blinds
exercise vigorously to television while trying
not to get hot over the ladies in tights
forgive myself my trespasses
write a novel write a letter write anything
all roads lead to silence (sometime
