Before today comes true,
Look again at what yesterday never knew:
Yesterday’s yesterday was the thing more true.
Yesterday’s dishes disheveled and piled up
Hide today’s teacup.
I want a simple cup of tea
But last night’s dishes are looking at me.
A new poem wants to be written
Because yesterday I was bitten
By the inspiration which never came
Because yesterday’s yesterday was hiding its name.
This poem arrived in a hurry
In ratio to how yesterday is slow, and doesn’t worry.
I want to write this now, but poetry
Must wait. I need to pee.
Oh damn, I will forget
The words; is it yesterday yet?
The morning is full of things which must be done;
Today’s must wait for yesterday’s sun.
I’m impatient to know
How this poem is going to go.
My inspiration is coming fast.
The ending which came to me first will be the ending at last.
I’m thinking (right now) about how I loved you then,
How much I loved you, but didn’t know anything then,
How much I want to love you again.
There I was. Can you see me standing
In the middle of the kitchen, not understanding?
I look at my cup, thinking, “What did I miss?
Did I kiss you today because yesterday I didn’t kiss?”