Bio: Matt Mauch is the author of four books of poetry, Bird~Brian, If You’re Lucky Is a Theory of Mine, Prayer Book, and the forthcoming We Are the Flownover. We Come From Flyoverland. He is also the author of the poetry chapbook The Brilliance of the Sparrow. He founded the annual Great Twin Cities Poetry Read and the Maeve’s Sessions readings at Maeve's Cafe along NE Minneapolis's in/famous Poetry Row. A Minnesota State Arts Board Artist Initiative grant recipient and National Poetry Series finalist, Mauch founded and now publishes the journal Poetry City, USA, and teaches in the AFA in Creative Writing program at Normandale Community College. He lives in Minneapolis. www.mauchmauch.com
As doubly good as the the gift of socks from Mara Mori is the acceptance of an offer to dance at highways speeds
From the backseat of a motor vehicle, I look into the backseat of a different motor vehicle and sense connection sensing connection. Like seventh graders who only know how to slow dance one way, we fall into each other, via gaze, like a pillar not holding anything up. Like the ruins of having previously held. A something previously assembled into a greatness beyond the sum of its parts. Like the species of bullfrog that jump and simply never come down. As if great hand were lifting us, like marionettes, from the opera we thought was all there was.
When we gather again, lap to lap to lap around a fire
Like space dust, we will coalesce. We will tell our secrets and say our hellos in newly native tongues, with new accents, new idioms, no subtitles to help us understand. As with a pop song we can’t decipher all the words to, we’ll shimmy, shake, hit all the vowels and most of the chorus, like a marsh full of returning birds. Our spirit selves, at first with our hair and our laps, fresh from our bodies, will rise and disfigure, spreading as a kind of smoke, settling unseen. We will evolve into a cemetery, sure, in death as in life: an open-air bowl with no prophet, no book, no worship, no lid.