Whatever they say
about Wednesday

I'm trying it anyway.

I have saltpetre dreams
explosions of scenes
up until now I have woken to
the sound of the clock
sometimes
I wished the alarm had
been broken
and I could sleep on.

still
it's all downhill from here.

I'm trying it by prying my eyes loose from
the dream that devours them

the radio plays because it's still young

I make toast, burn my tongue on the tea,
too hot for me,
I can cool down in Stratford town

Wednesday and I get my way
still fun and I play like the radio
because I too am young

My way back is blocked
the front door is locked

I'm out and about now
ploughing the furrows to make
new tomorrow's

I'd say that Wednesday's okay
so far.