By Miguel Algarín
Not tonight but tomorrow
when the light turns the peach
tree green and the Earth sprouts
its young leaves looking to repeat
the magical mystery tour of
photosynthetic conversion of light
and moisture into life—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when my body will have shed
its fear of turning old and soft
will I turn my speeding mind
into the tunnels of your psyche
to melt the calcium that constipates
your synapses into a lubricating powder—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when the Universe moves on
beyond the field of action
that is the Earth to me and you
will I discover the interplanetary clues
that signal the roots of my moment to you—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will I throw my feelings into
New York streets to stew
in the violence and despair
of our planet—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will the Earth turn green again.
Miguel Algarin, "Not Tonight but Tomorrow (1978)" from Survival Supervivencia. Copyright © 2009 by Miguel Algarin. Reprinted by permission of Arte Público Press.
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