Towards Nighttime

It was brought to my attention earlier this week (and by a cop, no less) that my tabs were long expired. So needless to say, I decided to make haste in renewing those puppies. Since government offices are only open within the confines of a banker's work day, and since I am currently on a temp assignment in downtown Seattle, it was necessary for me to dedicate my lunch hour to the task.

So yesterday I sucked it up and walked the 0.7 miles to the nearest licensing office to pick up my new plates and tabs. As I walked in, a sigh escaped my lips: the line was already several people deep. There goes my lunch hour. Oh well, I'd forgotten my book today anyway. Immediately my eyes flicked around the room for a source of distraction from the tediously long line. I settled on an ugly piece of surreal art and I began reading the text beside it. It was a poem. The first line read:

My sister told me she was going to sleep.

Immediately I experienced a jolt of recognition. I know those words...but from where? I read the second line and was even more convinced I knew this poem.

She makes it sound like a place,

Something about it was so familiar...I didn't have the patience to read the whole thing and solve the mystery myself, so I skipped to the end in search of the author's name. Sure enough there it was: Matt Metsker*.

Suddenly I recognized the trippy art poster and recalled that in high school, Matt's poem was published on the sides of buses all over the city. I'm not sure why it's now posted (and framed!) in the downtown Seattle DOL, but no matter; it was a delightful discovery anyway.

If I've read that poem once, I've probably read it a hundred times. That same poster proudly hangs on the wall at Matt's parents house. Reading it again now, made me think of freshman year of college when I first met Matt and slapped eyes on that poem. I remember thinking he was tall, but not lanky, clean-shaven and baby-faced, and blind as a bat without his glasses. But mostly, easy to talk to. That has always been what I liked best about Matt; he's easy to talk to.

Bumping into Matt's poem at the DOL was like running into a familiar face out of context. It was fun to see it again and revisit old times, but even before parting, I knew we were different; I could see we had each changed. But that's the funny thing about a poem, it doesn't change. I suppose it's me then, who has done the changing. And I suppose too, that's a good thing.

At first, I liked Matt's poem. I remember thinking, "I wish I had thought to define sleep as a destination like that; it's so clever!" Now I read it with far more objective eyes, as a piece of writing rather than a friend's poem. And truthfully, I'm now more impressed that an 18 year old kid wrote it. Then, it seemed perfectly reasonable. Now, 18 sounds like a baby.

I'm not going to critque or review Matt's poem other than to say I enjoy it immensely. There's something about it that makes me want to tuck it into my pocket for later. Matt's writing often used to make me feel that way and I'm surprised to see that it still does. Must have a lasting quality to it somehow. I'm not sure if Matt is still penning his creative inklings, but as a reader, I sincerely hope so.

Therefore, in celebration of it's 10 year publication anniversary (and to commemorate my stumbling upon it so unceremoniously yesterday) here it is, in its entirety, for your reading pleasure (published here without author permission...but I'm pretty sure he won't mind).

Towards Nighttime
By, Matt Metsker

My sister told me she was going to sleep.
She makes it sound like a
place,
as if she'll go there and return in the morning.
If sleep is a
place, it must be a place
where everything fits.
In Sleep, I bet all the stoplights turn green
and there are never any awkward silences.

*If this statement garners no reaction from you, then you probably have no idea who Matt is. Hopefully you have guessed by this point, that I do. Matt and I were very good friends and eventually dated in college. It's been several years since we split up, but we're still on friendly terms.