"We must catch up [sometime]"

A certain swathe, kind or class of people
actually do say "We must catch up",
as if they're trailing in a marathon
or a tour of the Pinakothek...

Perhaps they meet and compare
children, jobs, houses holidays –
but if they add "sometime",
it means much the mendacious same as

"We must have lunch sometime".

Nobody has said either phrase to me,
though in the old days
I was frequently invited to lunch in people's homes,
even that of the Countess of Caledon,
in whose vast kitchen I made
a perfect green soufflé in 1969; 

and the elfin Marquess of Dufferin and Ava,
whose butler served us lunch as we sat
in chintzy armchairs.
I didn't know that he was queer,
and certainly didn't think that I was,
six years after my terminator friend
(the first person to bid me to take care)
'took care of' my doomed but glorious infatuation
with a gamine and eye-opening Dane.

It still pervades.

So, rare reader, why don't you
invite me for a delightful lunch ?
I love mange-tout peas and passion-fruit,
globe artichokes and custard apples,
gooseberry fool, caviare d'aubergines
and many other non-meaty foods. 
I don't like sweetmeats, cake or fudge.
You could catch up
on my slowly declining health and on
the fragmentary memories of my past
which are rising from the sludge

Remind me to wear my hearing-aids.