Fourth of July 2026 in Empire

The ice cream truck driven by a Latino man plays “Dixie.”

A teenage moll vapes weed while other teenagers,

including the one who shit his pants on the street last Fourth of July,

scream profanities in preparation for a knife fight.

I’ll watch from the recliner

and never think once about calling the cops.

A homeless man rides by on kid’s bicycle

with a mounted American flag blowing in the breeze.

Do homeless people celebrate America’s birthday?

If so, why?

America at 250!

Self inflicted euthanasia courtesy of a petrified Constitution

and octogenarians who won’t pass the burned-out torch.

As Lou Reed sang:

Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor—I’ll piss on ’em
That’s what the Statue of Bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses, let’s club ’em to death
And get it over with and just dump ’em on the boulevard

Overheard earlier at the meat counter of the socialist grocery store,

MAGA meat cutter with blood smeared across his apron

whispers to a grizzled man holding a t-bone steak,

“There was nothing here before we arrived.”

He meant the Americas before Pilgrims and Cortez.

I was going to object but was holding a roast to barbecue for the dog,

and it seemed impolite to debate holding a roast.

So I’ll celebrate the Fourth of July

by watching a double feature—The Postman Always Rings Twice—twice!

Lana Turner in shorts and Jessica Lange up on a butcher’s block!

There might a knife fight, there might be an ice cream sandwich,

there will be fireworks and maybe the kid will shit himself on the street again

sustain the metaphor and deliver the indictment and verdict all in one blast.