We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan, <br />Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" mate, a giddy sound, not strong <br />Like "rent", "feeding a wife", "satisfying a man". <br /> <br />But could a dream sent up through onion fumes <br />Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes <br />And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall, <br />Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms, <br /> <br />Even if we were willing to let it in, <br />Had time to warm it, keep it very clean, <br />Anticipate a message, let it begin? <br /> <br />We wonder. But not well! not for a minute! <br />Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now, <br />We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.<br /><br />Gwendolyn Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/kitchenette-building/
