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Monday, February 25, 2008
In our apartment between two parks
Some nights in the walls we hear
The gurgling of a large baby.
The sound comes from high and low,
We've heard it in every room.
Often it's followed by the closing of a door.
Sometimes not. There's a hairline crack
Where the ceiling meets the walls --
That's not it either.
We have been married a little over a year.
Nothing would make us happier.
Sometimes when we hear it, we sing to each other:
Hurry up and make me born,
When I think
I can hear the synapses singing, power lines.
posted by Jordan