UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY - 07/2012

JAMES BABBS

I Hate It When the Wind Blows

I hate it when the wind blows
when itís the middle of the night and
I canít get to sleep
because
the house keeps moaning
the lonesome sound of sorrow
like the restless sigh
from the lips of my lover
the night before she left me and
the shadows on the blinds
I keep watching them
the hideous shapes they make
the trees limbs fluttering
the way my heart feels
when I get so alone


7 Billion

earlier on the radio
when I was scanning the channels
I heard them talking about
the worldís population
reaching seven billion people
but itís not easy for me to understand
the significance of such a number
because
Iíve been driving down this road
for the last twenty minutes
and I havenít seen another car
just a few scattered houses
some of them with their lights on
and stretches of empty fields
rushing past me in the dark
Iíve gone for days at a time
without hearing another human voice
when I return home to
the silence of this house
and many times Iíve awakened
in the middle of the night
confused for a moment
when I find myself alone









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