September morning
by Ross Vassilev
it’s cool and mellow
the sun like a teenage girl bending over
mornings like this
I can forget about everything
the wind rattles the trees
and tells me how butterflies die
I let the sunshine fall on me
like the hands of blonde angels
I make obscene remarks
to young girls on the street
when you’re insane
the sky crumbles like chalk
on the pavement
when you’re insane you’re free
as a crow
as your mind crashes through
Autumn leaves
so scream all you want
at whoever passes by
they can never put the cuffs
on your sweet wandering
schizophrenic soul.
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