These Things Happen
July 4th celebrants trampled
their nachos and sangria
to escape the burning spray
of pyrotechnic stars
when a two pound firework
misfired on the ground.
Extinguishers turned the grass
powder-white.
A blue burqa hid the grieving
woman flogging herself
on The News, then she crumpled
at the feet of a shirtless troop
with a shoulder wound
for an epaulet—
an improvised device
exploded in Takrit.
Through night vision
a burned out Hummer
glows fluorescent and local boys
who clambered up to brandish
a soldier's lost kit slink away
like ferrets with silver eyes
and emerald skin.
After some whiny rebukes,
the firework display continued.
Kids atop a Minivan watched,
faces green with glo-sticks,
hands on their ears.
Only their hearing was hurt.
The American Journal of Poetry
Volume 3, 2017
July 4th celebrants trampled
their nachos and sangria
to escape the burning spray
of pyrotechnic stars
when a two pound firework
misfired on the ground.
Extinguishers turned the grass
powder-white.
A blue burqa hid the grieving
woman flogging herself
on The News, then she crumpled
at the feet of a shirtless troop
with a shoulder wound
for an epaulet—
an improvised device
exploded in Takrit.
Through night vision
a burned out Hummer
glows fluorescent and local boys
who clambered up to brandish
a soldier's lost kit slink away
like ferrets with silver eyes
and emerald skin.
After some whiny rebukes,
the firework display continued.
Kids atop a Minivan watched,
faces green with glo-sticks,
hands on their ears.
Only their hearing was hurt.
The American Journal of Poetry
Volume 3, 2017
