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The Literary Groong - 10/07/2006

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	By Bedros  Afeyan

	It's how we turn our hips 
	To face the looming day
	Ready to learn in a lurch
	To mark the scents of sorrow
	In revolutions per sunrise
	Undulations per sunset lost.

	To be a waking animal at nightfall
	A sleeping tinkerer by day
	To meet the hips that turn and jerk
	To accentuate these mournings of May.

	The salty air evades
	Cannery turn to Mall
	The merchants are asleep,
	The truckers in revolt,
	Yet I cannot sleep nor read
	At hours of my choice.
	Cannery row, empty at this hour
	Cannery row, angry at this hour
	Of beginnings and dawns.

	Monterey, CA
	(6 AM, 5-16-96)

Dr. Bedros Afeyan is a theoretical physicist who works and lives in
the Bay area with his wife, Marine. He writes in Armenian and in
English and also paints and sculpts. Samples of his work can be found
on the web by clicking on his personal web pages at:

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