Friday, July 4, 2014

Fourth 4th; Hawkeye

screams and screeches
I'm at my desk,
don't ask,
I'm somehow always here,
always listening
to the slow start
ignition turn of the day
afternoon smells were
morning memories
were pure blue sky
flying home rumble-strip
strep-throat jingle jangle
clouds airy/see-through
bundles of white mess
children playing so small
and meaningless beneath them
flash of color 100 years ago
fantasy just before World
War I american kids blasting
fireworks gawking at sky
same thing tonight but cellphone
selfie pics with blasting
powder splash/color/crash
only thing is now there's
less to wonder at except for
by abstract-math-what-animal-
now, praises go to time
and the idea of humanity as
evolution as philosophy--
but ignoring the past, forgetting mistake
is systematic, symptomatic of something
else, of withering away,
of ignorance, in thousands of years
we've forgotten more than we've learned,
and we'll continue to do,
if only to tear up the ground and the
birds and people and the cats
and the dogs and the children
for little green pieces of paper and
numbers in a bank account,
god bless lady liberty and the liberal eye,
things are working out alright,
I can see it perched in my chair,
I'm watching bullets fly,
rockets explode.

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