is going on right now at the Hotel Vernon. I left before the end of the second round with no qualms. It’s not the poetry was bad; in fact, I heard one duet that I thought was pretty damn good, and we all know how much I hate multi-voice work. (Cantab, by the way. Any of you bringing poems about Iraq, prepare to be schooled.) it’s just that the atmosphere and the process of the slam is not where I’m at anymore, and I don’t feel it. I keep trying, but it’s wearying to me to keep trying. I don’t have time to be weary of it. There’s too much of my own work to be done.
I’ll be attending the regional on Sunday at Jumpin’ Juice and Java, and I’ll stay to the end for the sake of the team. My weariness isn’t (and shouldn’t) be interpreted as ill-will towards those who still love it. I’ll attend and support them as the mood strikes because the slam family is still one of the best families I’ve every known, and I still think it’s the single best thing that’s ever come out of the slam — not the poetry, not the fame and the profile, not the awareness and the energy. The family. The network, the connections. That’s the gold that’s come from the slam. I hope you’ll still invite me around from time to time.
But I’m glad I’m not going to Nationals. The team thing isn’t working for me any more. The dynamic of the team slam isn’t interesting to me, and a full week of it is too much.
I am looking forward to Charlotte in December, though. I think the IWPS is where it’s at, after having seen both several times. Less cliquey, more variety, etc.
Dark Matter 
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