Ross Vassilev- A Poem

look up at the clouds

if I'm an idiot

well, it runs in the family

so it's good enough

just lying on the couch and letting the tv drone away.

the sky doesn't care if I get a job.

the Americans will still march off to war

as I try to glue together the pieces of my mind.

I fear and I sweat.

I go for walks along the beach by the lake.

I hate ominously.

I stare at women and girls just to make them nervous

the same way people used to stare

at my crooked legs.

I'm perfectly justified

though a psychiatrist might think otherwise.

I look up at the clouds as the wind picks up.

I fear this story will have no happy ending and maybe not

even a mild contentment.

please turn out the lights when you leave

and close the fucking door behind you.