Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
An early evening gust broke the back of the day's blaze Still 90 degrees at eight in orange haze Sweat runs down my neck Through the gorge between my ******* The wind lifts my linen shirt runs its hands along my sides reviving memory of Forest Park of a blanket in the grass Where the pines trace so many faces Crackling popping kids stolen matches, running screaming victorious! Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk That whole afternoon I spent hammering caps Noise really makes us kids really especially annoying Mom wants us out! Gone! All of us! No needs. No excuses! No cookies! No slices of bologna! “No more Kool Aid! Out now! Out!” That evening I tried to dismiss the itchy sweat of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits at Gino's family picnic When some kid (I don't know?) between the rigatoni and the sweet corn Some kid tosses a sparkler into box of fireworks I don't know? whether to cry or laugh I was pretty scared Rockets going off across the lawn and onto porch Craze of colors through the trees Some at eye-level horror! But the sight of Aunt Nedda diving under picnic table Stockings, garter belt upended Capsized beyond her caring of uplifted dress Some images just stay with you, ya know? July 4th always lands for me on a firework's ***
0
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
July 4th Memories that Last
An early evening gust broke the back of the day's blaze Still 90 degrees at eight in orange haze Sweat runs down my neck Through the gorge between my ******* The wind lifts my linen shirt runs its hands along my sides reviving memory of Forest Park of a blanket in the grass Where the pines trace so many faces Crackling popping kids stolen matches, running screaming victorious! Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk That whole afternoon I spent hammering caps Noise really makes us kids really especially annoying Mom wants us out! Gone! All of us! No needs. No excuses! No cookies! No slices of bologna! “No more Kool Aid! Out now! Out!” That evening I tried to dismiss the itchy sweat of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits at Gino's family picnic When some kid (I don't know?) between the rigatoni and the sweet corn Some kid tosses a sparkler into box of fireworks I don't know? whether to cry or laugh I was pretty scared Rockets going off across the lawn and onto porch Craze of colors through the trees Some at eye-level horror! But the sight of Aunt Nedda diving under picnic table Stockings, garter belt upended Capsized beyond her caring of uplifted dress Some images just stay with you, ya know? July 4th always lands for me on a firework's ***
"Caps" are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s. We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger crack.
Written by
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem