by Jacqueline Coleman-Fried
Just before her 250th birthday
America, sweet land
of checks and balances,
has died in anguish.
So we must ignore
mixed martial arts fights,
the Marine Band, fireworks
aimed at the moon.
A despot blocked the birth canal
of oil and gas.
While conducting state business,
he's gold-plated his family’s progeny.
Critics who think he’s broken laws,
say he should be held accountable—
he hunts down.
Since America has flatlined, honey, cancel
the sticky lemonade, the red, white and blue
sheet cake.
On July 4, play taps.
Jacqueline Coleman-Fried is a poet living in Tuckahoe, NY, and Williamsburg, VA. Her poems have appeared in The New Verse News, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Macrame Literary Journal, Sheila-Na-Gig, Nixes Mate, and Streetlight Magazine. Her chapbook mansucript The Losing has been longlisted for The Headlight Review’s Annual Poetry Chapbook Contest 2026.
