Marching band drums on the sidewalk
Sound like an indian summer  funeral procession

In school you gazed through Spanish milk glass, turned your head to the back of the room, and (for just a moment) stared into fleeting afternoon eyes

In school you floated over hardwood gymnasium floors, pointed at your wrist, and twitched a sunburnt nose in laughter and secrecy

One September we all went crazy

We drove to your house at 2 a.m., the sky was ink
We shared a beer in your shed and I was drunk after three sips
I jumped out of a moving car to hold your hand for a few more seconds

One September we all went crazy

When we got home she played church hymns on the grand piano
We fell asleep on book bindings and grape tobacco
We wrote nonsense through the phone lines, and fell in love with eachothers shadows