another day I couldn't make up my
well
anything
couldn't make up my bed
and I couldn't wake up my head
couldn't summon the dead
and then I couldn't unlock the tools from the shed

couldn't break up the day
couldn't just walk away
couldn't know what to say
couldn't bow or kneel or pray

ttttthhhhhhhheeeeeeennnnnnn

spilled the food
dropped a plate
stubbed my toe
walked in late
forgot my shoes
tripped on a rock
had to walk an extra block
lost my cool
talked too much
acted crude
didn't sing enough
made you mad
thought you
'd cry
like nothing
I said
could come out right
saw a girl
saw a boy
who felt the rain
witnessed love
walked about
apologized
saw a different depth
in your eyes

on the day I couldn't make up my

well


anything

Hidden.

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

Staring at the mirror
Thoughts rushing in at once
I look in disgust
At someone who can't be loved
I find myself asking
Will he ever love me?
Can he ever love me?
The answer in my heart
Already says no

a tree'd grow
youth slapping
by my garage
and howl green
every noonight
i sleep awake the stars cuddling
                                         furiously
w
    i t
         h         my dreams

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
    Dark like me-
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening...
A tall, slim tree...
Night coming tenderly
    Black like me.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?