BILL RODE SUNLIGHT'S STREAM

	By Bedros Afeyan


	He stood unbound, brilliant booming pitch
	Daring fame's too short a lease to tire

	An overworked Queen and a burst poet's appendix orphaned
	Crazy uncles, old world advice, newspaper boy in cafe's

	Circulating telegraph messages on windy roads
	While genocide visited the Armenian Night

	He discovered San Francisco and New York
	Flustered wasps, street walkers, huddled denizens

	Gamblers, dancers, poor and burning Arabs, American foundation
	All the way up and down the Malaga vines.

	He made Fresno and Paris come and go speaking brittle reflection
	Rivers of lust and untaxed piping pride, stories in starring flight.

	He hung his hat tipped to the East
	Witty wicket waste, soaked in passionate delight

	Vye, Vye, Vye, he would intone, smiling like an onion's scrape
	By a mortal bite of life foretold to insipid academigaudy scorn

	I once heard him confess Shaw was his inspiration, not the rest
	Hello Out There! he said to whomever I myself will inspire

	While Miller, Karouac and Albee took their queues
	To burst through the gates and wound the engenues.

	He was Saroyan to the end. A farmer's boy,
	A poet's son, an observant crier of Our Town

	Highlands and merchants prancing in his glare
	Striking a portable typewriter, a machine gunner's flare

	Channeling Whitman, funneling impressionist colors
	Like  butterflies captured on a punctured canvas

	The daring young man, endless cartwheels in the sand


	(Happy 100th Birthday William Saroyan:
	Thanks for the chiseled world of words
	That keep singing in my ears)

	Bedros Afeyan
	8-9-08
	San Diego, CA


--
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:
http://208.177.152.139/