“The Mormons Are The Only Utopia That Ever Worked.”
—Peter Drucker, Deseret News, January 13, 2010
On a pew in 1983 I believed this, but now the imagined bonnets are
slow to smile. Years converted me from organ strains into sympathy for
wife number seven who stares over cracked wheat, eyes full of Goshute
She rides West, expecting snowmelt to bleach Temple clothes—but the
chill only taunts. Bites down to bone with its questions.
Yet Seven lasts the interrogation, & spring water calls the woman upward,
to uncorseted yellow pine, where she gulps down the crystal syllable of
Once inside her, the sound rips Masonic stitching from her underwear.
Gold-plated dreams fall through the holes.
About the Poet:
Matthew Ivan Bennett began writing at 10 when he saw a writer on TV in a comfy green sweater. Through years of commitment Matt earned his own green sweater, and wears it while workshopping plays with Plan-B Theatre and jumping on the mini-tramp serving as his office chair. His poetry has been published with Kolob Canyon Review, Western Humanities Review, and Mixer.
About the Sound of Sugar:
We’ve loved reading the work that we’ve published (clearly), so now we want an opportunity to better hear our contributors. We will feature an audio recording of a poem from one of our seven issues, read by the poet and updated every couple of weeks. This an open invitation to all contributors from any of our issues, we were delighted to print your work, now we’re eager to hear it.