Reading:
Billy Collins' Picnic, Lightning

The poetry slam team went to New York City to the famous Nuyorican Cafe on Friday. To use the only phrase closest to what happened, we got our asses waxed. There's definitely a style difference between states, and Massachusetts slamming is slower and less based on rap.

The place was swimming in hipness. Nearly unmarked except for a cardboard sign saying "Nuyorican Poets Cafe" in a dark street. None of us were carded for the Coronas and Rolling Rocks we consumed.

Our host, Keith, was a true cat. Fortyish with a graying beard, black, slow talking and subtly humorous in most everything he said, a wonderful hugger. Despite Keith's slow speaking, all around us were these poets who rapped and spewed out these Ani Difranco rip-offs. And these are the poets who contend for the national slam team, Mouth Almighty? yikes.

Getting up on stage to slam, I nearly blanked on my poems. The crowd was darkened by the dim lights, but dark skinned in general. Although at first I was disheartened by the very low scores my teammates were getting, for some reason, I didn't give two shits. The cliche came into my head that I really can't change who I am. So I did my slow, sensual stuff and even at the end the editor of a NYC magazine called "Tribes" said she wanted me to submit my poetry.

Keith approached me and said, "Listen, don't take any of this seriously." He knew we were feeling like we were brought there for the Nuyos to snack on us.

There was no way I could take it seriously. We got paid $55 between the four of us slammers, I heard different styles of slam, we hung out in NYC curtesy of the school, and I have a weight lifted off my shoulders because I finally feel like now I'm ready to write for me, not for some performance space.

Well, one of my roommates came out to me this morning. I think it's sweet and wonderful. She says she's still considering herself straight, but is "exploring her lesbian tendencies." More power to the girl! She has balls. When she said she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell me or not, I told her that I've had crushes on women, but never enough to act. She's so giddy like a little kid before Christmas.

Exerpt from poem I read at the Nuyo slam: