Yellow

When they turn the sun

on again I'll plant children

under it, I'll light up my soul

with a match and let it sing. I'll

take my bones and polish them, I'll

vacuum up my stale hair, I'll

pay all my neighbors' bad debts, I'll

write a poem called Yellow and put

my lips down to drink it up, I'll

feed myself spoonfuls of heat and

everyone will be home playing with

their wings and the planet will

shudder with all those smiles and

there will be no poison anywhere, no plague

in the sky and there will be a mother-broth

for all of the people and we will

never die, not one of us, we'll go on

won't we?