—IT’S PRETTY COLD FOR JULY
Ice
I’d had a DUI, no two, but
I wasn’t as drunk as the rest,
so they sent me to fetch more ice
before the fireworks got loaded and shot off,
it being the 4th and how our country
was on the right track now.
At the store, most people also
looked a little liquored up,
grinning as if it was Halloween
or their birthday instead of the 4th,
wearing red, white and blue,
flag shirts, stars and stripes
on their caps and shorts,
some with a bold, patriotic tattoo.
I got three bags of ice, a lottery ticket
and two more cases of Modelo,
my new favorite since what Budweiser did.
In my truck, where you turn to go right or left,
I noticed the Mexican woman wasn’t there
with her kid like they always were,
actresses the two of them,
beggars and illegals more than likely,
but their sign was still there,
hanging crooked off the curb.
I don’t know why, but I flipped it the bird
as I pulled away laughing my ass off,
though for some reason I
thought about it later on
just as the sky started lighting up,
screaming in colors that were new to me.
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