4th of July (In God We Trust)

Plastic pinwheels flashed like metal
tinsel-tickled flowers folded
over. Dark strangulation of cloud covered sky:
Sunset pink nylon scarf that smelled
of must
at my throat.

You pulled the gizzards from frozen chicken
Forty cents a pound for pimpled yellow flesh:
The crack of bone, body halved by your blade
steel wedge, your smile
split skin—gristle emerging
from the fold.

I was not prepared for this no-picnic pic nic,
nor for sailors nor cyclists nor circus freaks
flying flags lost in the crowded firmament.
But this sphere is an image:
whether it be solid, liquid or gas—
a holographic bubble densely curling
under the weight of its no-substance surface
ready to bust

© Holly Troy circa 2004

July 4th, 2026
Somewhere in the United States

image: peacock and rusty tricycles @ holly troy 2026