michael k. gause currently
lives & moves around minnesota. his writing can be found in prestigious
publications and homely homes; places such as bigcity lit, mental
contagion, half drunk muse, red river
review, taj mahal revue, poems niederngasse, poetism, slow trains,
and here. though he has created, hosted, and participated in
reading events in the twin cities he prefers reading and writing
in the corner of a good bar...
a bio... by
d. garcia-wahl
it is the
question of where man ends and poetry begins. and out in the
street the
beggar lives for spare quarters. the busker puts his lips to the
reed of his sax. the drunkard, a bottle to his mouth. the prostitute
fingers a nipple. a group a teenagers keeping their distance from
poetry. a man, wishing he were kind, leans against a building.
a girl selling flowers hands a bouquet to an old woman. a juggler
sitting at a bus stop rubs his eyes. up lyndale. through hennepin.
down nicollet avenue. it’s the same. come through washington
avenue, walk into a bar, there you’ll find michael
k. gause,
a drink before him. in his hand, a pen. it’s where his hand
meets the pen that you’ll find an answer to the question.
you’ll see he’s put his pen to drunken paper.
that’s
how i found him in 1998 over espresso with but three unpublished
poems to his name. i published those poems in the
venerable seed that very summer.
i became his friend. apart from that, despite what he may say,
i have been nothing more
to him than a librarian.
i handed him his first copies of donne, rilke, mallarmé,
and baudelaire. but by most my offering i lead him to his first
copy of rimbaud’s "a season in hell", which, as
he sat before a maddening fireplace reading, set forth in him a
true satori and near breakdown.
what became of him as a man afterwards is unknown to him – which
is why i write this and not him. he doesn’t know how to define
himself any longer.
this
is because he evolves faster than definition. i call him poet.
i call him artist. i call him a new voice. he scoffs at it all;
questions even more so. so what is the bio of a man such as this?
is it that he moved to the twin cities from nashville (his birthplace)
in 1995 with a master’s degree in german, that he finds himself
now married with a young son, or that his enjoyments lie in that
of fine cigars, perfected coffees, good beer, and clever absinthe,
or, perhaps, mention is to be made of his first publication, the
tequila chronicles?
no.
truly, the bio of such a man is insignificant as are photos of
an author on the back flap of a book jacket. michael k. gause is
a man of words. therefore all that matters is what comes of his
ink. You’ll find everything you need to know about him there
in those words he sweats.
now go.
walk into a bar and find him.
read the pages that come of his pen.
make your own definitions.
find him.
find him.
and, if you’d be so kind, bring me back a little something. []
his
first self-published chapbook, the
tequila chronicles, is available
at query books (www.querybooks.com) in
minneapolis and at micawber's (www.micawbers.com) in
st. paul, or can be ordered directly from the author by emailing
michael@thedayonfire.com.
the cost is $5 (which includes shipping).
a review is available
on poetic inhalation - www.poeticinhalation.com
the
tequila chronicles also has
it's own site - www.tequilachronicles.com
please visit
michael's own site - www.thedayonfire.com
