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The Nature of American

14 Sep

It was the busy season,

Late June.

At a fireworks store,

Bright, colorful, American,

My work.

People shuffle in and ask for

Something loud.

People shuffle in and say,

We wanna celebrate.

People shuffle in and tell me,

Why I’m from Massachusetts.

Fireworks are illegal there

They don’t care.

People shuffle in and I tell them,

Have fun breaking the laws

Of the country in which

You celebrate.

People shuffle in and tell me,

You look stressed.

I went to buy candles

To sooth me.

I found one labeled

Freedom.

It smelled like cotton.

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Posted by on September 14, 2011 in Poetry

 

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