lying on the bank

watching the lights bursting,
pink and green, purple and gold, orange and silver,
crashing into each other,
red, white, and blue
exploding into themselves like the bombs we drop.
but this is who we are.

shapes in the sky, appearing as
flowers, streaks, jupiter rings, catherine wheels.
the sonic snap a split second after the daylight.
streaming down towards the river, the boom
fading into crinkle of a newborn radio station's static.

behind and over it all, on the far side of the river,
god bless america and the star-spangled banner.

it's everything we stand for.
equality for all men.
happiness for all who seek a better life.

but the colours light up the smoke,
drifting away in tangled cobwebs.
the clouds of the silver-lining.

and just like the smoke, equality isn't clear.
what defines someone as a part of 'all men'?
is it written in the independence day joy?
is it traced in the pretty twinkles that light up the summer night?
just three days ago, the radio station
featured a reverend,
preaching the wrongs of all but his faithful followers,
just three hours before, my father
giving permission to date boys,
but forbidding that i ever like a girl as more than a friend.

is this america?
should rights be denied
to homosexuals, pagans, blacks, mexicans, democrats?
are they just not normal?

what defines normal?
the rates, the numbers?

should rights be denied to redheads,
because there are more blondes in this country?

did the founding fathers write in our constitution
that certain groups should have privileges revoked,
because they are a minority?
our country began thru the hard work of minority groups
seeking equality.

because they were the first,
do they have the right to decide

who else can fight?

this is america.