Michigan, why won't you publish my poems? Why do your journals reject me every time I submit, while other states like Indiana and New York and California and Iowa take one, two, even three?
Are you mad that I write about you? That I praise your grizzled, Evinrude-capped denizens and tree-lined vistas? Your birds and flora?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I've only written two books about you. I've only mentioned a fraction of your cities, like Oscoda and Escanaba. I've made friends with people just because they were from Michigan. I've slipped your name into places where it didn't belong.
Michigan is this correct?
Should I keep sending my work to your literary magazines of form rejection and no thanks? Should I stop writing about you completely, and surrender myself wholesale to Ohio?
Michigan I'm putting my backwoods shoulder to the wheel.
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