Thursday
I have had my dream—like others—
and it has come to nothing, so that
I remain now carelessly
with feet planted on the ground
and look up at the sky—
feeling my clothes about me,
the weight of my body in my shoes,
the rim of my hat, air passing in and out
at my nose—and decide to dream no more.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on August 29, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
“Thursday” appears in William Carlos Williams’s fourth poetry collection, Sour Grapes (The Four Seas Company, 1921). In a 1978 lecture recorded and archived by Naropa University, published by the Allen Ginsberg Library and Naropa University Archives, Allen Ginsberg discusses the poem with his class, stating, “So we’ve all been in the same place here as this poem? Maybe you haven’t lost all your dreams yet. You haven’t lost them. Just keep going. You’ll get there. You’ve got a couple of dreams left. [...] Okay, so in this class, no dreams are allowed to be written as poems, except if you’re looking at them from the outside and saying, ‘That’s my dream?,’ except if you’re looking at it as kind of an object. Like [Williams] did, in a way. [...] ‘I have had my dream—like others— / and it has come to nothing, so that / I remain now carelessly / with feet planted on the ground….’ That’s Sunday—like Sunday—the doctor’s off work, he’s in the park, he’s looking up at the sky, he’s got his feet on the ground, and there’s no motive any longer. There’s no push in any direction. There’s no pointing of his mind at anything—there’s no attempt to gain anything any longer. There’s nothing to be gained any more. There’s no more dreams.”