Love,   I woke in an empty flat                                                  to a bad new government;
it was cold       the fridge was still empty                                          my heart, that junkie,
was still chomping on the old fuel                                 vroom, I start the day like a  tired
motorcyclist                              I want to go very fast and email you about the following
happy circumstances:  early rosebuds, a birthday party, a new cake recipe              but  
        today it’s hot water bottles and austerity breakfast and my toast burns in  protest
 
                        You are not here of course but you live in me like a tiny valve of a   man           
you light up my chambers                                 Later I will call to tell you about the new
            prime minister,   the worrying new developments                        and about  how
I am writing my first political poem          which is also (always) about my love for you