Poetry slam guy

BY JOHN KEENAN
WORLD-HERALD STAFF WRITER

Matt Mason remembers the exact moment he became a poetry slam aficionado. He was one of the judges for the slam - a competition that mixes poetry and performance for nominal prizes - at the Nebraska Literature Festival at Wayne State College. It was the first time Mason, a poet, had ever seen such a contest.

A young, attractive woman took the stage. Mason can remember almost prejudging her as she approached the podium. "She'll try to charm us," he thought, and prepared to be unimpressed.

Then poet Amy McGeorge "knocked the place down with a really funny, well-written poem," he said, delivering her work with such conviction that Mason was transfixed.

Untitled Poem For Sarah Every morning you'd think all the moths would throw themselves into the Sun. But they wait for streetlights to consume them in small coughs of sparkle. My dear, my dear, my dear: I have stopped listening to my moth soul. My dear, I am done tilting at streetlights My paper wings soar, brush your blazing heart.

"It was just very exciting," he remembers. "And it looked like a lot of fun."

At the time, Mason was an up-and-coming Omaha poet with a strong academic background. He had been published in several magazines and literary journals.

Today, in large part because of that performance, he's also the unofficial coordinator and arguably the driving force behind Omaha's blossoming poetry slam scene. He registered the local slam with a national competition, competes in slams and hosts monthly slams at the Omaha Healing Arts Center.

Mason lives with his wife and daughter in a house just north of Interstate 680 in Ponca Hills. It backs a wooded area, now all brown trees and dead grass but still quite beautiful.

A stack of papers labeled "Short Fiction" is on the coffee table. A striking painting of a man and a woman, sitting together in a park, draws a visitor's eye. The man is handing a bright red bird to the woman.

In a back room, equipment from Mason's day job as an audio specialist shares space with a computer and family photos.

Mason isn't only a slam poet, although he's not ashamed of that label. He received his master's degree in English from the Creative Writing Workshop at the University of California at Davis in 1994, has written several well-received "chapbooks," short poetry collections, and has published more than 100 poems in respected poetry journals. His latest collection, "When the Bough Breaks," is due out from Lone Willow Press this year.

But in Omaha, he's known as a slam guy. He competed for a Des Moines team at the national slam competition in 2001 and participated, first as a competitor and then as a coach, with the first two Omaha slam teams to compete at national competitions.

Mason's abilities as a coach grow out of what seems to be a desire to nurture young talent. He discourages booing and heckling at his slams and he is unfailingly enthusiastic and supportive of new poets.

Sara Lihz, one of the youngest of Omaha's slam regulars, first met Mason at a reading five years ago when she was 16.

"I was there with a friend of mine," Lihz remembers, "and we looked like we were 12."

Mason invited Lihz and her friend to read as featured guests at a National Poetry Month event he was coordinating for an Omaha bookstore.

When Lihz got there, she found she was sharing billing with William Kloefkorn, the state poet laureate.

Lihz said Mason's professional interest in her - a 16-year-old who'd never taken a creative writing course - boosted her confidence.

Matt Mason Age: 36 Education: Bachelor's degree in English, emphasis in writing, from Santa Clara (Calif.) University; master's degree in English, creative writing, poetry from the University of California, Davis High school: Creighton Prep; grade school: Mary Our Queen Family: Wife, poet Sarah McKinstry-Brown; daughter, Sophia; dog, Panda Selected works: "Mistranslating Neruda," "Red, White, Blue," "Coffee and Astronomy," "Old Froggo's Book of Practical Cows"

"And this was not an open mike. It was something that I had been invited to do as if I were somebody important," she said.

"That's what Matt does around here. It doesn't matter how old someone is, or where they've come from or what kind of poetry they write, if they've got energy and a desire to read, he will seek them out and encourage them."

A couple of years ago, Mason sought out a poet for more personal reasons.

Sarah McKinstry-Brown was an established writer when she arrived in Omaha in 2002 as a featured reader for one of Mason's events. She was a regular in the burgeoning Albuquerque slam scene.

Mason squired McKinstry-Brown around Omaha.

"In my naiveté, I just thought he was a very nice guy," she recalled. "Now that I've moved here, I realize he took me to all the great restaurants, all the great hiking spots, all the romantic views in the city."

Later, when Mason dropped McKinstry-Brown an e-mail telling her he was thinking about competing at a slam in Chicago, where she was performing, she didn't divine his intentions.

"He was very nonchalant about it," she said. "If he hadn't been, I probably would have told him not to come."

When McKinstry-Brown walked into Chicago's Green Mill Tavern, she immediately spotted Mason.

"And I remember when I saw him - I walked into the bar, I'm getting ready to perform, I'm totally nervous - I remember looking at him and thinking, 'Wow, he's a lot more handsome than I remember. And a lot taller. And a lot better poet.'"

Mason remembers the event with a touch of exultation.

"I went out to Chicago to try to impress her and catch her show, and I ended up slamming that night and won," he said. "It was doubly great: First, it's the birthplace of slam, and second, it's in front of the woman that I love."

They married in 2003 and settled in Omaha. Mason commissioned the painting of the couple with the bird as an engagement present. He had a friend hang it at the Joslyn, with a placard that said, "Sarah, will you marry me?" and walked McKinstry-Brown right up to it before she realized it was a proposal.

The couple's 5-month-old daughter, Sophia, has become a semi-celebrity at Mason's Healing Arts Center slams, where the regulars greet her with coos and smiles.

Although Mason has written several romantic poems for his wife, she said she admires his ability to mix humor into serious topics.

"I'm still learning how to be funny," she said. "He has the ability to be both really funny and thoughtful."

Mason's first chapbook, "Old Froggo's Book of Practical Cows," illustrates McKinstry-Brown's point. His ode to the briefly famous cow who escaped a slaughterhouse by leaping improbably over a 5-foot-high fence is both amusing and starkly real.

After bright local reviews for "Froggo," Mason followed with more chapbooks, discovering that by selling the books at his out-of-town readings, he could partially recoup his travel costs.

Mason has continued to publish poetry as his involvement in slamming has grown.

"The thing I really like about him is how strong he is both on the page and on the stage," said Omaha poet Nat Derickson. "He can sit in a bar environment, at a slam, or he can go to the ivory tower, so to speak, and do the academic events as well. He's just got a really broad range of talents."

Mason started www.poetrymenu.com, a listing of poetry events in the Omaha and Lincoln areas, in part to help bridge the divide between the area's "academic" poets and "slam" poets, two groups that often don't mix.

He said he'd like to see poets from Creighton and the University of Nebraska at Omaha more involved in the slams.

"But then I'd also like to see more of the folks who come to the slams going to the readings at Creighton or UNO," he said.

For now, in his living room, Mason has another type of encouragement in mind.

He's rocking his daughter to sleep, gently swinging her car seat from his right arm as he ponders a question.

It's an odd, weirdly touching moment, Mason's brow furrowing as he considers his response, baby Sophia sitting quietly in her car seat, lulled by the not-too-high rocking, Mason's body shifting infinitesimally to the right and left.

It might make a good poem.