on the fourth of july
the excitement of wax-accelerated combustion
will impact your memory
with thick heat, blasted eyebrow, the glory of faces across flame
but eventually all the box fires melt into each other
and you remember each less distinctly
except that one, mysterious night
with independence on the line
when there was a heap of coated cardboard
that revealed in glorious bursts
a hidden city beneath
once the intolerable temperature ceased
darkness crept back into pupils
we settled around our scorched city
admiring its structure, substance and worth
that went beyond the initial heat of the honeymoon phase
and lasted well into the great history of memory
