Posted: March 19, 2013 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

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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