The Best Damn Fireworks | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine
After only three minutes it began to get real good
either the men on the boat had opted to blow their load early
or this town had a lot more cash than they were letting on

It was like the grand finale except it had just started
the commotion grew louder and louder, the arches of the rockets, lower and lower
until it became clear the sky wasn’t the only thing on fire

In the light of the magic they’d sent up
silhouettes of men jumped overboard, their clothes in flames
half a mile up the beach we could water down only our thirst

I have to admit, best damn fireworks I’ve ever seen
and certainly not the first time
our boys have been sacrificed for show.

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