PRESTON BURNS : life unlimited 
the fictional blog of a college freshman

 

"Borne on the Fourth of July"
by Michael Chin

Sparks sizzle across the sky
green and blue
against a black backdrop.
Gathered in the parking lot
Bobby pounds the horn
in response to each pop,
screaming his significance,
while we sit in the back
of the pick-up truck
oohing and ahing
with each explosion.
Ben talks through it.
Says it's fitting that this
Is how America celebrates,
Says all we want to see
Are explosions—
bigger and brighter,
covering more sky
with every pop.
Kelly rolls her eyes
and whispers something
about loathing politics.


Sparks sizzle across the sky
a white flurry.
Steve observes
it's like a squirt of cum
into the pussy sky.
Ben says that's just like
the administration—
these explosions flying
from white collar cocks.

And Kelly leads a few of us
down to the pavement.
I take Tracy 's hand
to help her to the ground.
We pause,
observing
our first touch
in five months.

Sparks sizzle across the sky
burning red.
Kelly steps between us, pointing,
turning our eyes upward.
Says it looks like a rose
with its petals raining down.
Phil shifts his lens
to photograph the falling flower,
but it's gone by the time
we see it.

We hear Steve's voice
before the sky's popping
and Bobby's horn
swallow the sound.
He's slurring a challenge to Ben.
Kelly moves farther away,
while Phil gets closer,
ever-shifting lens in hand.
Tracy folds her bare arms
across her chest,
eyes fixed on the sky.

Sparks sizzle across the ground
orange sparks I flick away,
exhaling smoke to meet
the colors of the sky.
As Steve shatters his bottle
we make our own display
of sparkling shards and embers.

Sparks sizzle across the sky
greenbluewhiteredorange!
Popping, popping!
Finale
Bobby's horn
gasps for air to keep up
Steve stares in awe
Phil's camera clicks.
Kelly calls it a garden,
while Hiroshima dances
across Ben's lips,
and I cast the filter
to the ground.

And as these fireworks disappear
Tracy mumbles her request
for my sweatshirt.

Piling back inside the truck
I peel it off
and hand it to her.
The engine roars,
as the headlights come to life
and we all ride further
into the night.

Privacy Policy | ©2006 Michael Chin