Author: clydemg

Hello! My name is Clyde Granzeier, and I am a senior at the University of Michigan majoring in Creative Writing and Literature and minoring in History. This is Wolverine Stew, a weekly poem blog about the strange, stressful, and fun parts of life here in Ann Arbor. Each poem will cover something different, ranging from D&D with friends to the jack-o-lanterns across campus to the trumpet-shaped and puffball mushrooms that pop up in the Arb after it rains. This will basically be a stew of experiences (pun absolutely intended) from my time at U of M, and I hope you enjoy! P.S. No wolverines were harmed in the making of this stew : )

Wolverine Stew: Moon Over Michigan

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I know it isn’t full yet

Missing that faint yellow glow

That let’s you see the craters and

Haunted wonder at its silent ascent

But this has been eight months

In the making, a note from the first

Evening spent walking out from a

New room where I could watch the stars

And you never know quite when the clouds,

When the cold, will return, so now

I stretch my arms out and let the

Waxing moon shine down on me

Trace the Big Dipper I can find in that

Space the lamps don’t quite reach

Think of those last few scenes of

Dragons, monochrome zombies, and laughter

60s celebrations and musical mockeries of Apollo

At two theatres I remember

Through stored ticket stubs

And see how the marquee and the moon

Mix together tonight

Wolverine Stew: First/Last Thawing

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As the days go on, I can see

Carpenter bees and painted ladies

Fly from one pale blossom to the next

As a chorus of frogs sound in the

Marshes I’m just now beginning to

Wander through

Seeking those new paths from

Picking a direction and wondering

How far I can go with a friend or two

Tulip sunsets blooming from patchwork city soil

And curated reminders of maize and blue

And I’ll go through graveyards and theatres, cafes and Kerrytown

One more arboretum trail, one more crafted carnival, one more night

Walking the same loop, tracking constellations in those

Spaces between lamps, singing together after the stage lights go dark,

Rolling dice and trying out new names

Enjoying that welcome that was always there

With the ones who gave it

Trying to take it in as the clouds start to clear

And it will hurt to miss it all

But that means there’s something worth missing

And I’m glad I get to celebrate it in the sun

Because I know both will be back soon enough

Wolverine Stew: Graveyard Eclipse

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I follow the path of quills and daffodils

Blue ground-facing stars and yellow suns

A spring soil night as the sky above

Turns dim, a growing grey

But a welcome one in place of

The gloom that has begun to break

And as I walk I see dozens of others

All with their glasses that turn the sun

Into a campfire crescent moon

Celebrating on every patch of grass

In the front lawns where

A cracked, plastic skeleton rests in a pile

I end up at the cemetery, fellow sky-gazers

Sitting amongst the headstones as

The trees begin to bud, robins rushing between them

Starry blue flowers sprouting beneath

As moss creeps across the polished names

And lichen-loved stones

Like faces and upturned mushrooms caps

And just in time I find a place

Where the branches part

Where I feel welcomed to sit beside the graves

Where the sounds of my eyelashes

Against the dark film that guards them

Sounds like rustling in the pinecones and dry leaves

And the chirp of birds reaches its crescendo

As that waning crescent almost gives way

Before waxing yet again

And I spend a few more moments

Planted in the grass

Before making my way out of the cemetery

I pick a direction, and on I go

Because as the sky brightens

There’s so many

White-winged moths, wolf spiders, cranes, colonies of ants

To spot along the path

And I hope to see them all

Before this day ends

Wolverine Stew: Slow Growth

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The air feels cool, not cold

And I think this time

It might be here to stay

The Diag corner canopies now filled with

Reds, yellows, and pinks budding

Even as the sun hides behind

The walls of windswept clouds

As the day goes on

Rain turning to mist turning to

Fog that covers the entire street below

I still think my windowsill garden

Growing each day with

Spiral-potted sprouting succulents

Orchids in an amanita green glass vase

Mushrooms resting dormant

And chamomile seeds yet to split

Will carry on

I got a real rose from a paper garden

As my goodbye from the theatre

And until I find a vase

I improvise with plastic

And a good bit of tap water

But I think it holds up well

Because this garden is far more

Stumbling than sowing

But in the end, I still think it grows

And more often than not

I see a patch of blue in the sky

Wolverine Stew: To The Keene

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Tropical shirts and impromptu strings

And a dragon to watch over it all

Plastic ivy wrapped round found/fashioned staves

Tipped with hot-glue pinecones

Dancing screams filling the aisles

Green stars shooting into my eyes

Onto the curtains behind

A place where a rubber chicken

Is a great and terrible power

Paper carefully planted in plots

And watercolor paints

As a library is carried to the seats

And very soon that paper will bloom from

Blank black floors of the stage

That rise to fill the space

When the lights go out

And when they return

The dust rises in a dozen beams

And the show begins  

Wolverine Stew: Can Someone Please Tell Me When We Get Spring?

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From the field of mulch and needles

The flowers seem to glow

Icicles sprouting up to

The gray that comes and goes

Patch of frost encircled by deep blue

Still here in the cold

And I miss when I could see the

Moon like a hole punched in

Purple-paper skies  

But it doesn’t feel bad to wait

Because as the night goes on

The stars peer through like

Roots splitting through stone

And the flowers are still here

Daffodils and crocuses and

My realization I need to learn more

About the blooms I still pass by

Because one day we’re going to have a spring

And it is going to stick

But for now, I’ll just wait for

The next sneak preview