FOURTH OF JULY

On last night’s steamy Fourth of July,
the window fan spun feverishly
trying to cool the bedroom
but at the same time
sucking in the sulphur fumes of fireworks
that I really struggle with this year.

I've never been fond of fireworks.
Oh, the pretty ones up in the air are fine,
but the heart-rattling, booming ones
whose sole purpose is to shake you to your core
are not my cup of tea.

This year I hear the loud booming
as a mockery of the horror
we’re inflicting on the rest of the world.
We proudly puff up our chests
as we claim to celebrate our freedom.
I pray that most folks,
if they looked deeply in their hearts,
would realize they’re celebrating
our crumbling empire's domination of others
and those sounds they hear are a death rattle.

A friend wrote today that on days like this,
he pretends he’s Canadian.