Slow Dance

by Matthew Dickman
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Dearest Matthew: I'm available, anytime, to slow dance. Just thought you should know.

Wonderful, Matthew, wonderful. Mmm.

Beautiful and heartbreaking, and just what the world needs.

Thank you for writing something that changed my morning. It's beautiful. Ouch. Thank you.

Beautiful and surprising, but not overdone. I like how the genders switch around so I can't tell who is dancing with whom and it doesn't matter. Love that chandelier, but love the old lovers more.

At first I didn't know what to expect. End result? Lovely.

Yes! Dreamy but realistic. More!

A perfect melancholy sort of thought. With its bit of dream and bit of loss it makes a perfect October sort of poem. Thanks.


Wow. This is why I love poetry -- it makes me see my life with a new radiance. I love the shift to the brothers, the toothbrush spit, the over-sexed chandelier. One of the things I like best about this poetry is its humanity. The unabashed expression of many different kinds of love plus the unforced but original metaphors really moved me. Thanks!

. . . but more than yoga and rituals and dancing, we need poetry that makes our hearts dance!
Bravo, Matthew!!!

That well capped off my evening, Matthew. I'm trying to finish a story myself and found that my thoughts went to other places . . . your piece went straight to it, that sweet sentimentality, being a little bit nostalgic. Great work!

Dance me to the end of love, Leonard Cohen says. Here we dance to life and love. Sent me spinning into my day.

All American Poem, and how! I love the brothers at the center of it all, the lawn mowed, the children before age four, the concreteness of it all, so even the line "I never arrived" seems visual, palpable. I love the spit in the sink, all these small motions that build the overall momentum–this is a roller coaster ride, and a gem. I would show this to a class and say, 'This is the epitome of a poem,' and let them figure out why. I am intrigued by the line breaks, and wonder how you arrived at them, a tossing of yarrow stalks or the careful whittling away of an oak?

Incredibly lovely, thank you.

A paean to slow dancing--memories of times past. Wonderfully insightful.

"Slow Dance" starts with a bang then navigates listeners through forests and streams before shifting to dance floor romance and night-time escapades.