Independence Day

Three of the four kids came over today; Fourth
Of July, it's a sort of occasion. The oldest came
First with her husband and daughter, and friends.
They're all well-educated, well-heeled, sure signs
That affluent suburbs can cough out replacements
For those who've been sucked into them.
The youngest came next from his soul-killing
Job, selling overpriced coffee to people like his
Older sister. He quickly withdrew to play video
Games with his friends, who are no-one knows
Where. The third, who, as is the case always,
Wore black, brought black-dressed friends,
Who were covered, like bathrooms in subway
Stations in areas his older sister and her sort
Won't go, with tattoos, like graffiti, weird images,
Sayings, on torsos, appendages, even their faces.
They smoked and drank beer. They chose not to
Swim, while the second-oldest, the younger daughter,
Stayed home. She said she had had a bad day.
We made due with the three who had come,
And their friends, and we wondered, when evening
Arrived, and the dishes and empty bottles were
Piled in pyramids, if there ever would be a time
When we'll actually know, and be able to celebrate,
What's called Independence Day.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 23 times
Written on 2021-07-05 at 03:15

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