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I am so very glad to see The Much Love Sad Dawg Trio reissued. Because of the untimely passing of the book's publisher, this first collection of poems by such an uber-talented poet received far less recognition than it deserved. How do I describe a Matt Sadler poem? When I read a Matt Sadler poem I feel a slow brightening in my head. It's a warmth that leads to a sudden awakening, like the speaker in "Letters to Trees," where Sadler writes "I'm listening to Brahms again and the cello sounds almost happy this time/and the light through the window forms a perfect triangle/ on the brown carpet…mehr

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I am so very glad to see The Much Love Sad Dawg Trio reissued. Because of the untimely passing of the book's publisher, this first collection of poems by such an uber-talented poet received far less recognition than it deserved. How do I describe a Matt Sadler poem? When I read a Matt Sadler poem I feel a slow brightening in my head. It's a warmth that leads to a sudden awakening, like the speaker in "Letters to Trees," where Sadler writes "I'm listening to Brahms again and the cello sounds almost happy this time/and the light through the window forms a perfect triangle/ on the brown carpet and the whole room is this new apple/ we're living on." The poems in The Much Love Sad Dawg Trio are the difficult combination of being reverent and humble. It is not the "look at me being humble" type of humility of Christianity, but the quality of mind of someone almost inexhaustibly willing to inhabit a world before passing judgment. It's like Matt Sadler's mission is to start his own religion not beholden to the "do's and don'ts, for-the-lord-/hath-saids, and other forced wisdoms." (Imperative, 14). His poems wake and wake again, but unlike Buddhism, they don't need to quash the self or desire. In the poem "Dreaming at Kyi-Yo" where the speaker's feels compelled to dance until self and dance are one. The poems continually wonder how at human kinds endless ingenuity of self-creation. In one poem, Sadler tells a parable of a bag of potatoes that left alone in a cupboard began multiplying, reminiscent of our uniquely human ability "to make something out of nothing" (26). These lovely poems from The Much Love Sad Dawg Trio, not only brighten my head, but also spur me to action. After I read this book I find myself turning toward the window to notice the cerulean blue sky behind the pine forest. I feel my body suddenly restless to leave the house and walk around the neighborhood for no good reason except to notice the world again. In "Letter to Layne from Tucson," he writes, "I'd like to be held like that again,/ if only in your mind, with care and utility" (19). And ultimately, that is what I love so much about this collection, its care and utility, the way it holds the world.
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