NATIONAL ANTHEM

Ever notice—whenever you're
sure you've got 

something worth saving,
it's because you can sense that it

won't be sticking

around for much longer?

It's like trying to savor
a frosty, tall chocolate malt

without watching it
melt away into thick milk

on a soft, July night—
or the happy desperation,

of a big group of people
all singing along

to this summer's

biggest radio song

at an all-night party
on the back lawn;

when the lyrics
consist only

of the track's total run-time
counting down to zero,

sung one half-decibel
more quietly each second—

and the underlying chords contain
every single melody line

of a universe 

filled with vibrating strings,

each giving its own self-
centered, independent concert—

all stacked on top of one another,
and each one

just so-happening
to sound out simultaneously

once or twice—giving off
the very temporary

illusion—that none of this
is nonsense.