fireworks

Exploding imploding setting sky on fire my deepest desires I can't remember on full display above the gray the colors invading my mind

                                                                    with crack and pop and boom the destroyers destroy destruction but their guns are filled with ink and when it ignites it takes us with it black and blue and red and white

                             the sky bruises with flowers that bloom for a second and

                                                                                                           my brain stains the pavement and

                        my thoughts spill out my ears and 

                                                                              I am color and sound and light.

                                                                                                                               I remember how we used to remember how explosions in the sky remind us to remember the dead.

                                                                                                                               I guess their skies exploded like mine does now but

                                                               it was a different kind of explosion and 

                                                                                                                         when they changed color and turned into light

                                         the explosions spelled out “the end”

                                                                                                   and 

                                                                                                          that 

                                                                                                                 was 

                                                                                                                        the 

                                                                                                                              end.

and we are flowers that bruise the sky for a second

                                                                                  i suppose

                                                                                            and there has always been gunpowder in american blood and it floods through our brains and the blood leaves a stain

                                                                                                                                               on the sky. 

     i watch the fireworks and they watch me too and they're asking me questions in red white and blue that i don't know

                                           I won’t know

                                                                 I can’t know

                                                                                      the answers to.