[Newspoetry] Alan Greenspan's Briefcase

[Joe Futrelle]

leaves crunching
beneath our feet
in autumn, we met
wet from a rainstorm
your hair clung to
your face
Alan Greenspan's briefcase was slim,
a single manilla
folder and some post-its

we professed
our love.  stuffed
into parkas, your
hand warming mine
against the north wind,
we braved chills
your cheeks crimson
we planned for the winter
Alan Greenspan's briefcase
grew, a few 300-page
reports joined the folder

winter came
you were
my snow queen
we hibernated
made love
by firelight
some troubling days
I longed for the solitude
of gardening
avoided your glances
was it cabin fever?
Alan Greenspan's briefcase
grew fat, like a squirrel's pouch
with books, a thousand-page report
tucked under one arm
the other rescuing his combover
from the arctic wind

what a relief
to see daffodils
we fought over nothing
the house had begun to seem
so small, but I longed
for fall, the crunch of leaves
the wonderment I had seen
in your eyes
Alan Greenspan's briefcase
grew enormous; reference material
of some sort, and so full of reports
that some were blown away and
he didn't bother to retrieve them
that day he raised interest rates
half a percent
I didn't see you

Mowing my summer lawn
I heard the door slam
you had your own briefcase
and stood above me
on the porch,
regarding the street
like Columbus sighting land
my tears mingled with sweat
you were leaving me
Alan Greenspan had two briefcases
this time, one of them on wheels
and a bulging backpack
an assistant
rolled a filing cabinet
behind him
interest rates shot up

--
Joe Futrelle
Editor-within-chief,
Newspoetry dot com