Anthony

15

Kill The Communists

Sitting here in my room
listening to the explosions
I ponder if Francis Scott Key,
ever thought that his poem
would be played on 99.5 FM
Cleveland’s Country, at noon everyday.
It strikes me funny that us Americans
celebrate the birth of our country
with hundreds of firework related
emergency room visits.
We go throughout the day
drinking “Authentic American” beer,
(AA if you will)
while swimming in our American
flag bathingsuits,
pissing secretly into the lake.
Cruising around in our collector
cars, only brought out
on this day,
to compete with everyone else’s,
the true American drive.
Sitting in a field
full of strangers,
while bombs shoot into the sky,
making explosions
that daze the crowd for twenty
minutes without interruption,
the real American dream.
Driving down the interstate
next to a Jeep full of sorority
girls, dressed in tight
American flag shirts,
high waisted jean shorts,
and a matching bandana
hanging out the back pocket;
Bruce Springsteen style.
To get rid of the lights and rockets
would be a crime,
disliked by my fellow Americans.
Although,
I wouldn’t mind
to lay in the tall grass,
off from some unknown dirt trail,
with a girl that I’ve known
for awhile;
watching the sun disappear
behind the mountains in the sky,
having the cool night air drift
through the grass,
over the hills,
and into my face.
Enjoying that quiet moment,
at peace from the commotion
of war
and patriotic explosions in the sky;
I am free.