To Know It Again [poem] by Sara Michas-Martin

The mind has some idea
of what to do
because it’s always been invested
in the enterprise of seeing,
keeping track
of how something feels
and how it operates and if
it’s been here before, certain
about the death of many cells
or the time in line at the bank
you hugged the wrong mother.
It’s a notable occasion
to get the thug dancing,
to ride a green light
finding north and think
I’ll try this once more
despite everyday distortions
including the fish too large
for the back seat or the tone
you misread for arrogant.
Around the head
stirs a haze of gases
and you recall a similar time
you climbed a fallen tree
the connection
still very alive, also your way
of being yourself to yourself.
Continuity, that myth.

 

Image of 1930s Switchboard Operator

[Refer: This poem put the editors in mind of Nancy Priff’s poem “Tithonus Cries Enough.”]

Image by Barry Pousman via Flickr Creative Commons

Sara Michas-Martin is a former Wallace Stegner Fellow and Jones Lecturer at Stanford University and has taught creative writing and interdisciplinary studies widely. Her poems and essays have appeared in the American Poetry Review, The Believer, Best New Poets, CURA, Denver Quarterly, Threepenny Review and elsewhere. Other awards include the 2013 Poets Out Loud Prize from Fordham University Press for her book Gray Matter, a nonfiction grant from the Barbara Demming Memorial Fund and scholarships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Bread Loaf, Napa Valley and Squaw Valley Community of Writers conferences. Read more at saramichasmartin.com.