Luna
Kayla blames Luna for her moodiness
and Denver banned fireworks this year
our streets filled with smoke from Wyoming
and Colorado Springs
Moon and stars are all we get
No rocket’s red glare, no bombs bursting in air
Five new wars ready to break out
our military exhausted
I covet other’s explosions
Fuligo Septica (dog vomit slime mold)
lights up Careaga’s strife-torn Oakland sidewalk
with bioluminescence
Walking up his stairs jars the memory
of other years without celebration
But Kayla’s hot as a cherry bomb
I remember her in junior high
wearing a black mini- skirt
sitting on my hand