Slamming Poetry Slams
I have wandered, meandered and even shuffled to a fair number of open mic and more officially titled �poetry nights� at several locales through out my suburb. For the most part, these have been rather enjoyable breaks from my normal routine. Let�s face it, I�m a writer, but I sure as hell ain�t much of a poet. But being one that is moved by words and phrasing, I can garnish a large amount of enjoyment from such excursions. Last night was my first official attendance of a �poetry slam�, which happened to be held at a coffee shop I haven�t visited since my very first college attempt (i.e. haven�t been to the place in about eight years). With anticipation born of too much coffee and inhaled depressants, I waited for the slam to begin.
And begin it did, half a dozen or so poets randomly rotating up to the mic in a three round barrage of lyrics and emotionally inspiring octaves. On more than one occasion my skin prickled with goose bumps, the lump leapt into my throat; I giggled, laughed frowned and even was forced into stoic silence at the ramifications from the words that echoed back to me. I did however, have one slight problem with what a �poetry slam� is and how it works.
In plain english, I don�t fucking get it.
Judges randomly score each poet�s piece and based on overall totals from all three rounds, the top three folks get some sort of prize. The concept of a contest and having a winner declared was an easy one to grasp, not an issue, as even the special olympics have gold medal winners. The part that lost me was how these folks are scored.
Being the intellect he is, my friend the poet elaborated. Apparently with a �slam� the more raunchy, sidesplitting hilarious, emotionally taxing or down right sexually aggressive the poem, the higher the score. The more exuberant the reading, the more outlandish the performance is, the better the score. Even after he explained this to me, whilst I nodded and smiled and thinking that I grasped the concept, I inquire to him as to why the worst poem and reader of said poem of the night came from the same person whom also happened to get the highest score. His telltale sigh of frustration I have come to know as a prelude to an explanation, that while he and others may find perfectly acceptable, I will probably pick apart, chastise and ridicule and then dismiss as, �pure and utter bullshit.�
The explanation, as follows, paraphrased and edited for time: �The more extreme the content of the poem tends to warrant a better score. In this persons case, he is flamboyantly gay and is subject matter is outrageous and taboo, hence the high score.�
?
Bull shit.
From my grasp of the situation, all that is needed to win a poetry slam is to be a very fat, flamingly gay man who writes what passes for poetry about how he loves his smelly manly man and sometimes yells out his own name when said manly man bangs him in the ass. In addition, if you put this sort of content in your poems, it is then ok for you to be a half deaf mute (he seriously was), that can not pronounce words correctly and for you to stand in one place, read with very little emotion or feeling from a piece of paper rather than from memory.
�Dude�, I replied, �that is SO nothing poetic about any of that. We are starting to encroach on the whole �thousand monkeys with typewriters� type of shit. In fact, if that�s all it takes to participate in a poetry slam, I should dig up some of the funnier stuff from my diary and stand up there and win a few extra bucks.�
With a shake of his head the poet reminded me that, while I do have some underlying humor, I do not have much that contains �outrageous� comedic content.
�Dude, I think it�s pretty damn funny�� I retorted and this it seems it is precisely his point. I think, therefore I am doesn�t apply to what other people find �outlandishly funny.�
My parting shot before journeying to the safety of my casa was a barely audible rant�
�What the fuck is so funny or special about getting rammed in the ass? Does this guy think he�s unique? I mean, christ, everyone else in the nation took one in the ass today and everyday when the government taxes and waxes are precious posteriors on a daily basis. There certainly is no longer anything outrageous about being anally penetrated anymore, I think this guy needs some new material.�
I think the poets right, maybe it�s best I just stick to open mic night...
**Postmortem note: Despite my gripes about the winner of the slam, or probably because of them, there were actually some REALLY talented folks that read. This probably explains my disdain for the whole process and fucntionality of a "slam". When true talent takes a backseat to bullshit, no talent ass clowns (literally in this case); nobody wins.
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