Happy Birthday to the world’s greatest poetic dinosaur, Morris Stegosaurus! May he never become extinct.
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finally
After all the years I’ve been in the slam scene, at last I rate: this is one of the first certified David Huang photographs of me reading a poem at an NPS.
Since I only read one this time around…it’s obviously “The Last Word” at the Erotic Reading.
http://www.poeticdream.com/photo.php?gid=298&pid=05081101025445
shameful plugz
Where’m I gonna be?
Sept. 11, afternoon: Middleboro MA arts festival. Feature.
Sept. 11, evening: Java Hut, Worcester. Home venue feature — the worst kind. 😀
Sept. 28: evening: Brooklyn, NY. Feature with Patrick Rosal and Barbara Newsome at Words of Wisdom , in the Spoken words Cafe in Park Slope.
November 19: A gig in So. Jersey, near Philly. Again, details later.
Dec. 11: Nantucket, Ma — feature at the Nantucket Poetry Slam.
Full detail as each event approaches.
Of course, there’s the Hut most Sundays and SPEAK on the alternate Wednesdays.
October is empty. Anyone want to offer suggestions?
Penny Players feature tonight
was terrific —
loved the interactive cheese grilling, the filmstrip poem…brilliant.
it reminded me of the old adventurous WAG Open Stage days. (Inside reference, sorry. A lamented performance space a lot of us in this scene cut our teeth on in the late Eighties/early Nineties. It had a Wednesday night open stage that included everything from performance art to hardcore to classical guitar to poetry to acappella improvisation to hostage taking and live shotgun blasts. Those were the days.)
After ward, I cruised Worcester a bit, had a coffee at the Hut, and came home. I’m a sad loser of a hipster, I guess.
Later…
Oh, almost forgot…
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?
Fun facts about NPS and me
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.
Bargh
I am socompletelymotherfuckingoverwhelmed with schoolworkhomefamilyscenedrama that I might start a band just to put everything totally overthefuckingtop.
How do you think I’d look in a formal straitjacket?
weights and measures
the greatest measure
of her pain
was that sole eyelash
that fell
from her face
as she wiped away tears
disbelieving
what she was seeing
but the scale tipped
back in her favor
when she closed her eyes tight
and turned away
from them
she was a whole year lighter
by the time
she reached the door
Feature in the offing…
I’ll be in Park Slope, Brooklyn, at Words of Wisdom/the Spoken Words Cafe on Sept. 28.
I’ll be featuring with Barbara Newsome and Patrick Rosal. (Info, anyone? Patrick Rosal’s work I think I know, but Barbara Newsome is unfamiliar to me.)
Details to follow…
candlelight vigil tonight
for Cindy Sheehan. Organized by drgeorge.
In my little hometown of Uxbridge…right on the town common.
Skip said he’d be happy with 10 attendees.
55 showed up.
Yeah.
hey —
I’ll be in Chicago on Sept. 19 and 20th. What’s going on? Not necessarily looking for features, but definitely want to see something at the least.
Of course, if a feature pops up, I ain’t opposed.
Acoma
The most sacred place I’ve ever been
is a dirt floored
mission church
in Acoma, New Mexico.
The men who built it in 1709
carried the logs for the roof
for thirty five miles on their shoulders
and never let one of them touch the ground.
I am not
the only one
who cries
upon hearing this.
The churchyard and its audience of
blacktipped crosses
look into the doorway
from the August heat,
into the church that has only
three windows
and still holds more light
than all of the valley beyond.
I have been here before.
I have been here since the first time I came.
I may have been here before that.
I am surely here, now.
The pillars of the altar are red and white, like me.
The guide tells us that there’s no conflict here
between Christ and the corn.
I am beginning to believe…
so however I may speak
of God tomorrow,
I am kneeling under the cross
on this solid earth tonight.
Dark Matter 