I never thought I'd leave my mitten
so mighty and cold and warm in the summer
and vary nearly died a few times,
in car wrecks on Dangl roads, and old
US-131. Thought I might have left
the mitten that way, but not by plane,
and not for love.
Rather thought it quite
nice to say, but that's not the story
I'm telling today. As years added on
and found myself lost to the passages
of romance, and misguided eyes, i see
that this romance with the mitten and I
was doomed to die.
Michigan was my
childhood sweetheart, my adolescent
rebellion. Michigan was my heartache,
and my drunk times, and my karaoke blues,
Michigan was my elementary school,
was where I built snow boulders with older
brother, and got shot in the eye by my cousin
with a bb gun, had never seen Christmas Story
so I couldn't heed the warning. This state
of ours, and my state of affairs, and the cracked
head on side of pool, and getting whacked
with a boot, and having nightmares
of my baby brothers passing in the night.
Michigan is where my little sister survived
an attack by raccoon, and I tried to depart
wisdom to my little brother too. This
mitten of ours, that we hold up our palm
to show directions was where I took
my Australian Shepard to the beach,
and worked at an Arby's for seven odd years.
Yes this state is precious to me, and her dunes
run wild and rigid, eroding beach houses,
as water levels go on rising. It's the place I broke
hearts, and acted a fool, where I hid away inside,
when other kids wanted me to play. It is home
to my pop, my soda pop for my non-Michigan friends,
and while I'm not leaving her just yet,
i will depart her soon, but I never thought there would
be a reason to.
Forgive me Michigan, my home in heart,
but I have to be with this woman, for she now has,
my heart.
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