after Robert Frost
The land was mine before I took the oath.
I forged her deed for many years before
That day I was sworn in. She was mine,
Wisconsin, Florida, Georgia, betrothed as I
Profited from bankruptcy, creative books,
Inflated the hope of those being replaced,
My army of aggrieved, donating faithful.
Caution kept me from this commitment
Till I measured up to my father’s genius:
Never spend a cent of one’s own money
Winning anxious countless who’d invest
In words that sound like what they hear,
Extracting solace from my iron pledge
To enlighten a nation darkness usurped,
Democracy, voting, migrants who leech
This land waiting to be better monetized
Such as she was until I should possess her.
Julio Marzán | J. A. Marzán 