Snaps. Snaps. Snaps.

Dear 27, 
I read this poem, written purely as an invitation and not for true public consumption, on stage, at open mic night, at the Des Moines Social Club. Thank you Craig Crile (Yes you Muscatine readers, the Craig Crile) for the ridiculous yelling that got the emcee's attention and me a free beer. There might be video. I'll be sure to post and publicly embarrass myself a second time if I can find it. It was awkward, even for me.
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“Oktoberfest Saturday”

RE-Written by LP based on
“Autumn Day” by Rainer Maria Rilke (German Poet),
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Des Moines: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap your shirt with lederhosen,
and on Court Avenue let your sauerkraut go free.

Command the locals to attend Oktoberfest
grant them a Saturday evening of rainless fun,
urge them to meet at 6pm, and press
the final sweetness into the German beer.

Whoever has no plans now, will have one.
Whoever is alone will be comforted by a free mug,
will sit, drink, and make long toasts through the
evening,
and wander the avenue, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
---
People clapped. And snapped. 
A guy performed a spoken rap about microwaving, there was a drum circle, a young man rapping about "republican ninjas" and the stage smelled like hippies. There were guys playing metal-head guitar riffs, a man who read stories in leprechaun voices, monster limericks, a story about pess-ee-meests and me. It was a night unlike any other. An awesome one.
xo-LP