A group of teenage girls
Were parading down the middle of the street
Crooning like a benefit concert
I knew they were live voices I was hearing
But, at first, I thought I might be mistaken
Since most of the carrying on you hear nowadays
Is radio play
But this reverie
Was, in fact, alive
And coming down my block
And not sounding half bad
I had to go to the window
To see what all the hooplah was about
Since these are the suburbs
And not Brooklyn for godsakes
There they were
Right outside the window
Stumbling in song
Completely sober
Drunk with music
Dilated in celebration
Reveling in girlhood
So I applauded and screamed, "yeah!"
Looking up, they raised their hands
Giving me their best "Thank you, New York"
Before twisting their faces in another direction
Bellowing sweet youth
Toward another row of houses
Heading east indefinitely
My wife said she had heard them earlier
They'd been singing all night
Going to and from somewhere
Since our house backs up to a high school
I have grown accustomed to broken glass
And the sounds of rubber soles whizzing over chainlink
But would certainly prefer getting used to
The accapella testimony of a young sextet
I told my wife I would gladly trade the morning songbirds
For a chorus of teen girls at night
And she certainly disagreed
Waking up at the first sliver of dawn
To a cackling treeful of birds
Reminds me that work is on the horizon
And that I should probably go pee
A lullaby of night music
Carried to my window on the shrill tones of babes
Excites me for the future
And lets me sleep easy
Knowing they have not yet silenced
The voices of tomorrow
--
5.23.08
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