4th

Its July the 4th,
and here in this town
where there are no fireworks,
still the sky goes gray
and the air stinks of gunpowder
as the illicit take aim

People are hurting this year
houses go unsold
jobs are lost or pay is cut
so people are hurting and scared
they drive harder, brakes and accelerator
register their anger

I think there are more this year than last
people are taking aim at the sky
blue and green and red tracers
fired high at Washington or God
machine guns of discontent
lit off by children and childlike men

But, these childlike men shoot blanks
and they will be misunderstood
rancor will be confused with patriotism
and the rich will be content and safe
telling the world that the rockets glare
is again an affirmation

These, the rich will stay away
from this town
where there are no fireworks
but still the skies go gray
and they will not see the houses unsold
the new cars returned to their dealers

They will not see the jobless youth
of a hard-working class
of fisted men with loud voices
not working and unhappy
and not appeased by knowing
that the market is climbing higher

I don't think the walls can fall
that the blue and green and red
can ever be more than an impotent threat
from marginal literacy
comes an unread and unmet threat
that comes from women and men
too much agrieved forlorn in loss
to be incensed or burning
more than the sky now grey

It will not happen
the walls will not fall
when the last job has been sold
and the dollar becomes
like blood from stone
unreal and no longer meant
then perhaps the rich will notice
that their things go unbuilt too

the rockets red glare
and here in this town
where there are no fireworks,
still the sky goes gray