This Slam Sponsored By Dayquil

Last night was the first qualifying round for the National Poetry Slam team at Writers' Block. Twelve poets entered, which is the maximum allowed. That's a lot of poetry in a night, let alone one round.

The room was packed. I drew twelfth, the last poet in the first round. It's hard to play strategy with so many poets, and waiting forty minutes is agonizing. I'd been sick all week and was on cold meds all day.

You've been reading about my frustration in getting anything decent written since IWPS and my anxiety about bringing something new to the stage has been looming over me. Scores were high and there was work to do after phenom Shamika went on before me and put herself into the lead.

I went up there and let it rip. It's a poem I've been struggling with for months. Kind of a praise/love/poetry saved my life poem inspired by work Kim Johnson did in the finals at IWPS. You never know how something brand new will go over, but I could hear the crowd grunt approval. I think they even roared along with me once or twice and then someone threw something on stage.



It was not fruit, or rotten vegetables, but a set of keys. Tossed up there by a dude. Apparently I was onto something as the poem (Flying Over Cincinnati after IWPS) put me into second place.

There was not much time to prepare for round two since I was going second. Ended up going with the coworker poem, did a very confident performance and stayed in second. I really felt I had to prove that IWPS was not a fluke. After last night's marathon, which included the city's finest poets, I did that.

I've seen Shamika a few times now and she's got some chops for being, I think, seventeen. She's not able to qualify for national teams at this point, but she's going to.

There was a poem about oral sex that J.G. did, etching the words vagina diner into my skull for way too long. This was immediately followed by Scott Woods' 'Oral, Elemental'. Sparks were flying on that stage last night!

A Cincinnati poet named Black Falcon came in third. He was checking out our scene and was not competing for team contention so I was the only poet to earn points this round. This means that, as of this morning, I am the slam team. This is not good! I either need three teammates, or someone to knock me out.

Rose Smith had the thankless task of drawing first slot. She did an amazing poem about race, and woman's restrooms that knocked me out. It's hard being first in any slam, let alone one with a dozen poets. In a later slot she may have moved on to round two. What a fantastic piece.

Also, thanks to the crowd, who kept the energy high all night and stayed for a lengthy slam. They made the night. I love when that room is full and Joanna has to bring out the cooler for seating.

Next slam is February 24th.