A Cynical 4th of July

A Cynical 4th of July.


This Fourth of July
Is like many others.
I've had a good weekend.
Got down with the brothers.

I heard some music,
Danced on in a fit.
Painted a surreal,
Brushed a literary bit.

Cop 'copter hovering
In my night's sky.
Shining his spotlight
Down in my dark eye.

He must be looking,
But it's not for me.
It's cooler in the dark,
At a quarter till three.

Is one day like another?
Sun rises and sets.
It's predawn on the fourth
Sky trailing with jets.

Some clouds and breeze
I greet this new dawn.
Debating news, politics
Will either ire, or yawn.

I dig in the dirt
To transplant the squash.
I'd rather be outside
Than doing the wash.

I white Camero, 60s style,
Sends a greeting with a smile.
"Voted Kerry too," he trials,
As I collect the sunflower pile.

Day goes on
In a regular way,
Neighbor's are fighting
Like every other day.

Tele's a bore
Nothing much to see,
Better things to do
Than watch what's for free.

As the sun goes down
My mind is set
I'll have a festive night
That I won't forget.

Copter was a chase,
Goin' after a thief.
He'd killed some man,
News of another family's grief.

Then the fireworks come
And the dogs freak out
I turn up the music
Dog dance and shout.

There was no Kate Smith
Or baseball for me,
Just a little apple pie
Made a patriotic me.
But I think, and I write,
In a land that's free.

Why do we holiday?
Why make merry?
Soldiers are dying,
Most people just tarry.

Other lands are less than kind
Flares light the night in delight,
While grenades and land mines,
Fly frantic frenzy and fright.

I do declare with all my might
There are things in this world
That just aren't right.
And "they" call it a memorable night.