breaking into balance

by Mark James Andrews

Saturday night and I was up at the lectern

off to the side of the altar in St David Church

in a fine Detroit neighborhood doing readings

from St. Paul and Kahil Gibran love verse

for a cousin’s wedding all the time winking at

my lover decked out in red blowing me kisses

from her post in the third pew side aisle

Sunday morning 2 AM only rolling half drunk

my girl Red safely tucked in the back seat

picked up my best man Lucci in worse shape

cruised over to Z-ski’s place and he was OK

to floor my Dodge all the way north no problem

he said so I crawled in back passed out

with Red before we even hit I-75 radio just right

woke up to first light silence Red nudging me

car stopped in a parking lot with a giant Jesus

staring down at us from his cross in Indian River

tourist town with the tallest crucifix in the world

we searched for a place to pee switched spots

I took the wheel Red had a thermos coffee cold

gassed up and had a private happy sleepy talk

guys in back started waking up as we hit Big Mac

the Mackinac Bridge sun high now sparkling down

where both lakes meet Huron and Michigan

way down below as this monster suspension span

four lanes five miles long connecting two peninsulas

held us somehow in gravity we would never know

when bang one blade of our engine fan sheared off

banged around scary under the hood of our Dodge

then gone but the beginning of a shaky ride driving

like a Conestoga wagon going through the Rockies

I gripped the heavy vibration of the steering wheel

over the bridge shot west for ten miles then bang

metallic again the opposite blade of the fan sheared

off and down into US-2 bouncing into the weeds

only to make this Dodge run steady smooth again

some crazy Zen balance but running a little hot

I got it to the only gas station in Naubinway where

a strange meditative mechanic told me the bearing

was shot in the water pump and no parts to be had

Sunday into afternoon just watch temperature gauge

brave it further north Big Two Hearted River town

time for another cool down gas up lunch break

for comfort food pasties meat pies gravy loaded

at the Golden Grill no alcohol praise the lord

waitress kept coming back with jittery coffee

you kids need waking up and coconut cream pie

back on the road Red took the wheel said OK

it’s M-28 west through this bog swamp no stopping

till we get to my girl Franny’s farm up by Superior

don’t get me singing no corny ass show tunes

but I’m damn sure getting married in the morning

or at least the day after so you guys can be poets

musicians philosophers but learn to work on cars

and Red brought us up into the farm near Munising

welcomed by Franny and her man who had tools

Tool Man was my running bud from Rock & Roll days

Viet Nam vet with Anthropology degree like Franny

now bullshitting while stowing our gear in barn loft

everybody bunking out up there and in sauna shed

old farmhouse bulldozed down ready to raze new one

Jimmy Tools had tightened up all other structures

talking about solving our car trouble mixing in evolution

of tools and language in human history but now law

of God and man were calling me to find a phone in town

so Red and I could connect with Reverend Head

a pastor over in Gwinn friend of a friend of Franny

Rev wanting to feel us out have a pre Canaan conference

so we got him on the line passing the handset back

and forth in booth gushing about a holy union blessed 

in church before God and our witnesses a covenant

the Rev liked what he heard said  “Ah yes, no longer

two but one” agreeing to set the ceremony tomorrow

5 PM so hung up gave the thumbs up to our expectant

little band of merry pranksters breaking out in cheers

and whoops rushing over to Stan-Jo’s for hamburgers

toasting tequila before retiring for a holy sound sleep

Monday morning rising ready scarfing twice baked dough

Finnish toast coated in cinnamon and sugar with peach

preserves dried sausage lots of hot tea lemon honey

Seagram’s 7 splashed in and Red nervous radiant anxious

wanting to stay near the farm make preparations walk

around the woods think talk to Franny alone Tools already

patched up Dodge with fan from a hulk rusting in pasture

parts ordered it’ll run ok for a while taking Z-ski to a place

he wanted to buy over by Trenary letting me and Lucci

take shotguns with birdshot directing us to walk old

abandoned railroad grade to a logging road two track 

toward Rock River Falls for ruffed grouse be careful keep

safety on so went hunting spooked three birds got shots

off missed Lucci transformed in rock grotto of waterfall

back at the farm everybody laughing Z and Tools

checked out wrong property Red still too anxious to do

anything but wander around wash her hair climb a tree

so the fellas set out trout fishing Buck Bay Creek caught

one keeper Brookie 9 inches Lucci did too said just

made legal size on way upstream heading back to car

I caught first nervous tremors began running splashing

short cutting stream through clearings yelling back boys

catch up my bubbling madness about to pull Red down

into know nothing can’t do anything no money rent’s due

got back to farm again Red and Franny picked wild

flowers fashioned a pristine bouquet for Red to carry

I donned my suit guy named Jack showed up vagabond

back from Porcupine mountains Lucci suited up so Tools

put on blue jean poor boy suit Red slipped into her creamy

white dress wide brimmed white hat held her bouquet

under big sky sun high eyes blinking talking too fast

took pictures Kodak instamatic jumping into cars caravan

Lucci chauffeuring us to our vows Jack and Z following

Tools with Franny bringing up rear his tiny Triumph Spitfire

all nipping at bottles arrived at The Church of God in Gwinn

pounding on locked door of church then pounding on trailer

out back finally Rev’s wife came out of house about 50 yards

back edge of woods so went in with Lucci small talking

with her while righteous Rev on phone with someone

in trouble finally Rev came out from back office shook my hand

welcomed us asked about the bride said he’d go put his suit on

meet us in church wife took us out unlocked the church

apologized for junk laying around spread out all over in piles

having cute little country church rummage sale Church of God

a fine country church all piney freshly painted robin’s egg

out back straight stand jack pines blue spruce birch mixed in

finally Reverend came in dressed up hair slicked back shiny

told everyone be seated but then shepherded us to the back

of the church asked Red if she was pregnant pissed her off

got my arm around her shaking my head at old workingman

looking red haired red faced Rev Head just wanting to counsel

us make everything turn out all right then bringing us to front

little non-denominational altar with old rugged cross

before our friends preaching responsibilities of marriage how

the scriptures told that a man must take a woman the union

must be blessed before God and made holy a covenant

permanent just about same lines we said to him night before

began praying over us doing a little talking in tongues

a little joking told Red she was about the most beautiful bride

that he ever seen told her “Quit shaking honey” she was and I

was so excited proud didn’t get much of what he said but

seemed solid sincere homespun wisdom got bible out reading

same passage from Corinthians I read back in city church 

“but the greatest of these is love” telling me I was Red’s

protector sword shield telling Red that your husband has

the right to make all the decisions whether you understand

them or not because in the eyes of God and according

to the teachings of the scripture the husband is head

of the household Red commenced shifting around holding

her head high and I looked over seeing Red crossing

her fingers behind her back Franny about to start laughing

right then Red created a balance to all that needed

to be balanced country church and city church rituals

Red fixing our wedding ceremony just like the fan of our car

fixing itself by breaking into balance and getting us up here

just like crucified Christ statue 55 feet in the clouds looking

down on the hangovers of some kids trying not to be afraid

Photo of Mark James Andrews

BIO: Mark James Andrews is a Metro Detroit poet. His work has been widely published in the small press and across the web in such publications as Chiron Review, Slipstream, Hiram Poetry Review, Nerve Cowboy and in numerous anthologies including Respect: The Poetry of Detroit Music. He is the author of five chapbooks. At the Ice Cow Queen on Mack (Alien Buddha Press) is the latest. His words can also be heard in the poetry recording Brylcreem Sandwich (Bandcamp) and he’s presently trying to get the band back together.