don't know what it means,
don't know how it
feels.
I'd just as soon run naked through the streets or through a mall or through a prison or
through your house
As get up on a stage in a club and read
anything.
Then again, I am an exhibitionist.
But here it is late at night
and I gotta
get this thing done
gotta put down some words
gotta get the meaning across gotta do it right now.
Listened to poets slamming on CD,
read press releases,
browsed Web sites,
listened some more,
listened
some more.
And I can't tell you much more
than I could last week.
I can tell you that slam is "fast, edgy narrative prose."
At least that's what
Clebo Rainey says.
And he should know -- dude does so much of it he could probably do it in his sleep.
And in yours.
I especially agree with him on the "fast" part.
Acoupleofthemtalksofastyoucan'tunderstandwhatthey'resaying
And after listening awhile, the rhythm, the pace, the flow
Get stuck in your head, and you think that way, and you write that way, and you talk that way.
At least I think you would;
I'm not talking to anyone right now.
Rainey says slam should "draw people in" and be "audience-friendly."
Detractors say slam's not real poetry. But what is poetry?
(That's a rhetorical question.)
Well, slam ain't Shakespeare,
ain't Browning,
ain't her husband either.
But slam is entertaining,
fun to watch, and it can be
thought-provoking
at least when you get your mind caught up to their mouths, acclimated to the
pauses
able to digest the words fast enough.
Is it literature? Is it entertainment?
Is it both? Is it neither?
What? You want us to tell you
everything?
Decide for yourself.
