July 4th

July 4th - one of those drug filled years when the sky was lit up by fiery cherry blossoms whispering into nothingness - us on the roof with some forgotten homeboy rolling a duracell sized phattie - looking out over paint peeling warped wood, not far from that fateful hill in "Blood In, Blood Out" where that one movie cholo carved his initials into his rival - there with the night air heavy and the sounds of occasional gunshots like the snapping of a whip - there in that balmy night air - we stood catatonic on the side of the road - watching the screaming black and blue's careen up the side of the hill followed by a blur of crimson and flashing yellow - and we could see it even from here - how the local fireworks had lit up that crackling hillside and the fires of that blaze - smoke billowing out into the ebony sky - mesmorized our eyes more than any fireworks - and after all, independence day is what we make it - and we wanted smoky dreams and signals to come wafting out into the world - reminding them - if only for a small moment - that we have been - and remain - here.

 

© Ryan Masaaki Yokota

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