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Alex Baboian
The Streets are Following Me


Here I am in God’s blessed paradise of natural beauty
racing of traffic and car horns in the soft sea breeze
telephones ringing in the trees

Pieces of dicussions, gossip, rumors, arguments, romantic sweet talks
like broken glass in the sand under my feet

Radios grumbling in the hazy blue clouds
above curvacious distant mountains

Embers of street lights, and neon
glowing before my eyes in the moonlight

I suspect that this chatter would dim in the twilight of each passing sunset
until eventually not even a lingering whisper would remain

Leaving just the birds, flowers, and rocks
to go back to the songs they were singing
before we started spitting all this noise into the air
or maybe they’ve been singing it all along
and we just couldn’t hear it with our ears so full of smog

But now I feel a tugging on the back of my shirt
something is poking me on the shoulder
reminding me just before I dive freely and thoughtlessly into the sky
of all the to do’s, not to do’s, becomings, attempts, goals, dissapointments, and preparations
like mosquito bites
one or two
a little nuisence but can be ignored
a hundred
and how could you ever stop scratching?



7/17 Lake Sevan, © Babo’s House
All Audio/Video/Writing © Copyright Alex Baboian, Baboshouse 2017