I went out at lunch and got the tattoo I meant to get in Albuquerque.

The word “mestizo” (for a mixed Native/White person) on my left shoulder, to parallel the word “poet” on my right.

States of being, y’know?

1. I skipped every side event except Slamfamily and the Erotic Open.

2. I read one poem the whole time I was there. It was not at Slamfamily.
2a. The poem I read is called “The Last Word” and is better known as “Let’s Fuck.” Based on observed NPS behavior, though, I think I’ll be changing the title to “Wanna Make Out?” Making out seems to be the equivalent of a business card exchange in the slam community these days.

3. I got drunker on Wednesday than I have in a good two years — since last NPS, I suspect.

4. When someone told me (no names) that she didn’t recognize me because I’d gotten grayer, my recent weight loss of 50+ lbs. became as dust in my mouth.

5. I skipped getting another tattoo because I would have had to stay up too late.

6. I indulged my upper middle class income to splurge on a convertible for a cruise out into the western desert to Acoma.

7. I was confirmed in my desire and need to move to New Mexico. Again.

8. I confirmed my complete retirement from slam competition. Again.

9. Yes, this includes iWPS.

10. I realized that since I grew up in a dysfunctional family, the slam family is the only type of family I am remotely capable of functioning in.

Poems of the week for me: Rachel M. doing “…Wish You Were Beautiful,” DC/Baltimore (Christian Drake) doing “Birdwatching,” and Matt McDonald of Delawhere doing “Jeanne D’Arc” — and scoring well with it. Really well.

See y’all in Austin, if not sooner. Maybe we’ll make out.