someone please help if you're good at poems?
I have to do new criticism on this poem and I'm totally lost...
Blind Boy, Fourth of July
Kiwi slices, she tells him. Hundreds of starfish
hanging midair. Dragon castles. Palm trees on fire.
Echoes turn to mushrooms deep in his head.
At the end fusillades, pause, and then boom,
battle horses wandering lost within canyons,
heavy space, broken heart, Hiroshima moon.
She tells him it will be the same way with love,
that love has its history, its Fourth of July,
though she also said once that it lasted forever,
made its own treaties, wore its own sky.
He believes that in time all the stars will fall down,
though she said she would love him till then,
that even in sky death, the whole world gone blind,
she would come to him, stardust in the palms of her hands.
She would tell him they could find errant stars once again,
raise them on kites, float them out across the sky.
He knows it's not true. Then he opens his eyes.