Harlem [2]

What happens to the dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a rasin 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?


On the shoals of Nowhere
Cast up--my boat,
Bow all broken,
No longer afloat.

On the shoals of Nowhere,
Wasted--my song--
Yet taken by the sea wind
And blown along.