The Fourth of July

I handed 20 dollars to the pale Creek
Traded Jackson for Chinese sparklers
To burn, the smoke drawing infinity
Above the paved trail.

On each of my shoulders stood
My pale ancestors, pleading
Their case for the spider webs
Laid across each creek of this nation.

I handed 20 dollars to the Creek
Under the revival tent, striped
With red and the recent slashes of rain,
Traded Jefferson for 99 cent sprinklers
That spit their sparks on the ground
Of the creek. The lightning
Joins, blood to blood, and still
The 20 makes its way through, tax-free, away
From the dark-skinned.

—
This is the first draft. Feel free to suggest edits.