Cerebration

ON SCHEDULE: ROBERT LIETZ

Robert Lietz's poetry has been extensively published internationally in US, Canada, Sweden and UK. He is the author of eight published poetry collections. The following poem is from his collection titled Twenty Ten which had begun in 2008 in anticipation of the Obama Presidency.

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1

Imagine the future come of it, and, if you're trying,
try hard, because

you'll have to work on this, between the Ides another year
and the St. Pat's

commemorations, feeling spring on schedule, just yesterday,
at work around the yard

or making pictures, presaging today's round-trip, and
cricket sounds,

configuring months ahead, from St. Pat's green promising,
with maybe a last snow left,

and daffodil profusions. There's nothing, be sure, to deter
the drive this afternoon,

to urge indoors these bright-hatted surveyors, or to slow
my driving now,

returning to you, Elizabeth, building our ways toward
one sound roof

and one set of expenses, to even a summer wedding
yes, and shared

last name another summer, seasoned by twelve
years travel, by

the coffee, about what you'd expect, sipped
cold, no less

than the Bush-inflected twitter
and
talk radio.

 

2

The board-play symposia in full swing, and indulged,
in these flexings, these

Alliance sages flooding local call-ins, aching for Hoover years
and still more secret ministries,

when all of the world seemed right, right-minded, yes, as
the new century's investors,

keeping up and seasonal, between the Ides and, next, St. Patty's
cabbages, so that fine details

count, no less now than impossible if anecdotal lusts, than
these concept buggies,

tops down, like retro-idiocies on wheels, throwing the skies back,
and the hungers,

more passionate than ever, as if to show us how things get,
with the maple harvesting

complete, the buckets brought in again, their contents destined
toward some sweetness

sure to make us think, considering the kinds of governance
proposed

to suit the likes of the mad callers, by the closed book-seller,
or Harley haberdasher,

imagining another go at it, inspired to genius yet, by bands
and scents

and by the land's sweet provenance, good as this gets,
you bet, and as investment promises,

after a life spent at cigars and skin shows and club magic,
under the same mirrored skies,

moved by the same well-documented
ratios
and horse-power.


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