Plans Are Dreams

More poised, more strict with the past—
What links, what hews close to what
Else, what have you got to use?

Dreams go through the past like kids
Go through rooms they’re sure hide toys,
The way rats go through a barn—

They have no goals but to get
More of what they feel they crave
As fast as they can get some—

They’ll rip through what they have
To get at some, gone or done.
A plan is a cat, a thief,

A grown-up on the far side
Of the one-way pane of glass
Who takes notes, who cuts the past.

Still a dream, through, still locked in
With the kids in the wrecked rooms,
All those rats in the dark barns.