under a haze
that creeps out
over the lake
Speed-boats bounce
zig-zag across the lake
the smell of burgers and gas
cling to one another
Roman-candles shoot
from tipsy hands
paper-plates red-white-and-blue
laden with potato-salad
rest on laps assembled around a fire-pit
Beer cans collect
under lawn-chairs
a team of balloons
lift a quarter-stick
of dynamite up to heaven—
firecrackers exploding on either side
the drunks stick their fingers in their ears
and wait for the bang
I hope Jesus
doesn’t come down
on the Fourth—
could be hazardous.
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