Burnt flag– [poem]

Ethan H.
Burnt flag–

These flags are the fuel
for crackling fires.

Curling smoke like clouds and,
when I circle around the
freeways of Texas,
every jeep dealership
waves them, directly at me
the wave not like hands,
but flames.

Don’t know anything
about arson, have only ever lit
cigarettes
outside concert venues
though I am ashamed to
admit it.

But I know what it is like
to be burned
by burnt orange eyes,
those eyes—
looking down from skies,
or maybe looking up
from their roots.

Holding up the flagpoles, but
do these poles know that they carry
the fuel for these crackling fires
between their long metal fingers,
like a cigarette?

---

---

---

Poet’s notes:

I told myself I wasn’t going to write a poem this week. That it was time to start my new posting schedule. But then I saw the news about the executive order on flag burning and I just felt like I had to write a follow up to my poem from two weeks ago, POLICE STATE—

While I would never condone or do it myself, the Supreme Court in Texas v. Johnson (1989) and United States v. Eichman (1990) made clear that flag burning is protected speech. In that sense, it is as American as baseball and apple pie.

Nothing else to say, really. But if you do not mind, please take time to comment and share. It would mean a lot.

---

Strange Bird Reviews
© 2025 Ethan H. All rights reserved.
All photos used are either my own, or taken from stock photos (canva, pexel, etc.).
No AI was intentionally used in the creation of this publication.