Pure Michigan

Oh, baby, maybe it’s 1974
Or 2002, 2016
It’s everything in between
Even still
Heaven on earth in a few different ways

The dune grass grows high
1995
The lake rises toward the corroding shore
Year after year, worn thin
2 AM
Come touch my skin, it’s just me

Hours
Walks to the Great Lake pits
Midday heat
Cabanossi on the beach
Children with goggles
Searching for curnoids
Frizzy glass for children's treasures

Child luck
Pure joy
Eternity and friends
Big sticks
Hands of smaller boys

Think
This land, my land
Endless
This grass, my grass
Restless
Eternal delicacy
Unbridled imagination
This hill, my hill
My post
My station
Welcome to vacation

The storm rolls in with thick wet air
Thunder electric moves hectic
Up the hill and through the gate
The whole world pauses trepidly
And we all think

As dawn cracks into daybreak
As the bridge games fold in night’s wake
As the candy passed out gets eaten
As the youngest children, reluctant, begin dreaming
As clumsy lovers start their kissing
As the world knows not what it’s missing
As the mothers give their blessings
As the boys get into trouble

The thunder rumbles
The train horn cuts through the night
Like butter knife
Like the lighthouse
Where you and I
Just two ships passing in the night

Lightning cracks again
Electric
This is pure Michigan

Bonfires at night
Our joie de vivre
Our lust for life
Little stars in jammed jars
Loud men with hot cigars
The Big Dipper dips to its dawn
You and I
Wine-drunk on the shore
Blue jeans
Sneakers filled with sand

Speak, poetry, philosophy
The song that never ends

And, and
If I died now, I’d die happy

Years go by
Days all melt together
This must be the endless summer

BMX bikes
Long orange train tracks
Kids smoking candy cigarettes
Sneaking into the old hotel
Spooked ecstatic
Wills elastic
Board games
Boring movies
Rain falls hard and loud

The living room overbrimming
With kids stealing money in Monopoly

Oh, baby, baby
There’s a storm a-brewin’
Humid air, heavy air
Thunder rolls in
Waves start churning
White caps
Hands clasped
I won’t refuse
Just ask

Green grass
Asphalt black roads
That turn to dirt roads with potholes
That we feel on bike rides
Through evenings with the promise of
Blue Moon ice cream
From the Pumpernickel Inn
Just down the street

And these streets, tree-lined
Wind from small town to small town
Up the hill
To buy fruit from the stand
Jackson’s Fruit Stand
The Promised Land

Just before the ice cream store
Where wood smiles
And the wherewithal
You think is
This is pure Michigan
Oh
This is pure Michigan

Evening falls with consequence
Tomato soup
Dill and rice
Bobsh’s bread
Dinner around two tables
Bent to hug her for attention
Cake tin
Generational distress
Coming to your head
Scarred by sin
Scarred
Marked by imperfections
Families fighting
Praying
Staying up late
An old green van
Drives drunk into the night
A circle of prayer
Guides it to the light

Kiss me
Come kiss me
You mean the world to me
The whole world
You mean everything to me
Come kiss me

Summer’s heat
Broken glass
Playing the trash
The classics on guitar
Meteor showers
Summer crushes

The song that never ends
I’ll just run down
Take a piss out in the bushes
Let’s go take a piss out in the bushes
Pour your dreams out
What’s the rush
Fill me up
I swear I'm tough
I’ll be your mirror
Made of light