Cover

Brian Bilston

Diary of a Somebody

January

Monday January 1st

My Resolution Will Not Be Televised

You will not be able to discover it from your sofa, brother.

You will not be able to sit there under the cat, sister,

remote control in one hand, phone in the other,

and put the kettle on during the ad breaks,

because my resolution will not be televised.

My resolution will not be tweeted.

My resolution will not be announced on Twitter.com

in 280 characters of self-promoting concision

to be retweeted by Ricky Gervais in between posts

deploring acts of animal cruelty and the release date of his latest film.

My resolution will not be tweeted.

My resolution will not be televised.

My resolution will not be Facebooked.

My resolution will not feature next to an inspirational quote

set against the backdrop of a soaring mountain or a looking-glass lake.

My resolution will not be posted beside a shining infographic

illustrating how many kilos I have lost, how many pennies

I have saved, how many drinks I have not drunk.

My resolution will not be Facebooked.

My resolution will not be tweeted.

My resolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures on Instagram

of kale soup and black bean–quinoa salad.

There will be no pictures on Instagram

of NutriBullet breakfast smoothies.

My resolution will not be vlogged.

My progress will not be revealed to you in a twenty-minute daily video diary.

My resolution will not be right back after a message

about my new range of eyebrow pencils.

My resolution will not be vlogged.

There will be no pictures on Instagram.

My resolution will not be Facebooked.

My resolution will not be tweeted.

My resolution will not be televised.

My resolution will not survive more than two days.

My resolution will not be televised.

My resolution will be diarised. I shall write a poem a day. It will be a daily testament to the power of poetry and how it can help us make sense of the world. A kind of inky monument to Truth and Beauty.

I shall set my poems down here: in this surprisingly affordable medium-ruled notebook with acid-free pages, rounded corners and expandable inner pocket, with its cover illustration of an anthropomorphised white Japanese bobtail cat sporting a red bow.

I do not underestimate the task ahead. Writing a poem every day will not be easy. It will require discipline. Mental resilience. Self-sacrifice. Vast reservoirs of imagination. And a ready supply of custard creams.

Tuesday January 2nd

I lay in bed until mid-day, bathing in the cotton sea of tranquillity that is my duvet. Inspired by my surroundings, I attempted a poem. I got as far as:

Duvet,

you are so groovet,

I’d like to stay under you

all of Tuesdet.