I dreamed a dream
and it was no ordinary dream
it was the odd imaginings of a brain
trying to tidy things up before it’s time to get up
and get to work

I dreamed a dream
and it was no ordinary dream
I was in a kitchen — not my own
with people — none I knew
I think they may have been friends of
Honoree Fanonne Jeffers
And we were trying to cook grits
but they were ruined over and over.

I dreamed a dream
and it was no ordinary dream
as I am not ordinarily responsible for grit preparation
and yet here I was
responsible for what I had no experience
no control
no help
except those who tried to tell me what went wrong:

water not hot enough
water too hot
too much milk
not enough milk
cooked too long
–was someone supposed to set a timer?

I dreamed a dream
and it was no ordinary dream
because I never thought to say what was really wrong with the grits-
as if I would know
but it appears that one cannot end up with grits
by cooking the yellow corn ground for polenta.
my Italian nonna knew not grits
but polenta was cheaper than pasta.