Mean
Index of Poetry Slam Looks
I’ve always been fascinated by all the hand and body gestures employed in the reading of slam poetry. Slam poetry’s cultural rhetoric is often that of political disenfranchisement and harsh urban experience, so there’s a certain indignation which at times feels, to me, insincere. But hey, I’m a middle-class wounded narcissist, so there. What follows are my theories about what each gesture and/or overall gestalt means.
I. THE “LET ME TELL YOU HOW IT FEELS TO ME” LOOK
Here, the poet points at himself — kind of like “extreme first person,” where self-absorption is interpreted as introspection. This guy is probably saying: I just got back from Hawaii / where I gots this shirt bitch/ thems Hawaiian’s ain’t down with us black folks/ pacific ocean demotion y’alls.
II. THE “ADDRESSING OF ABSTRACT AND/OR OMNISCIENT ENTITY” LOOK
This guy has tennis elbow in both arms because he etches his poetry into his fancy pulp-ridden handmade journal very severely in order to honestly convey his feelings and political alignments. Women coo, men coup; everything is predicable. Here he’s addressing some problems in Central America, like the plumbing. He’s like: We got to get together yos/ bring us up from the dirt/ one by one with a fist in the air/ and a courtesy flush, seriously.
III. THE “FEMINIST ARMPIT HAIR BUT I’M STILL PRETTY RIGHT?” LOOK
The armpit hair says I’m a feminist. The midriff says I’m hot. The glasses say I’m smart. The straight teeth say I grew up in Connecticut and my parents spent 6K on braces but I live in Chicago now and wanna talk about it. The fuchsia light says Finally, I’m not white.
IV. THE “JUST STOLE A DOZEN BAGELS GUESS WHERE THEY ARE” LOOK
Ok that was mean, I know it’s only dreads, but I went to school in Santa Cruz California and have been in the vicinity of too many dreads with moths or some stuff living inside them. Jesus, I kind of feel like an asshole because she (he? — most likely she — not making a joke here) might be from Ghana and been through a lot, and here I am being a little bitch. Much respect to this woman or man.
V. THE “PUMPED UP ON RED BULL FELLATIO TO THE MIC” LOOK
Bro life ain’t so easy. Neither he nor his two roommates are willing to take that first plunge and do the dishes. Now the sink is overflowed with cheesy water with mold spores on the surface. His dad’s a prick and, and, and, it’s time to let it all out. He jerks his neck back and forth, back and forth, waiting for something come.
VI. THE “JUST FOUR MORE MINUTES” LOOK
This guy has been going on about his ex-wife for 26 minutes and everyone is getting antsy. He asks for four more minutes with 75% the fingers so we all know who’s barfing 2nite. People who go on and on about their exes usually make bad hair/life decisions. “That whore” left him for guy who makes more money and now it’s a cantos on social Darwinism or something. He suffers, so now we all do.
VII. THE “PISSED OFF ABOUT BROKEN ANKLE AND THE WAR” LOOK
I hate to be racial profiling, but I’m getting a Muslim vibe here. The belt buckle suggests she might live in the south, so all I gotta say is “damn.” She probably slipped on some grits at the Waffle House after getting upset overhearing some yanks diss Allah. That weekend she drove past the Mason-Dixon line, got on stage and busted out: Holy war in effect America/ I got a one-way ticket to heaven/ don’t be trippin’ Genesis kids/ you’re just baptised in beer d-bags/ and I’m hoppin home.
Tags: poetry slam
genius!
“The fuchsia light says Finally, I’m not white.”
i just spewed up my chim chiminey chen flakes yo
genius!
“The fuchsia light says Finally, I’m not white.”
i just spewed up my chim chiminey chen flakes yo
“abstract and/or omniscient” – that’s awesome.
I hosted an open mic night for several years, and it was amazing how consistent the archetypes were. We always had one girl screaming out diary entries, an angry white dude rapper with a not-quite-cool stage name, a new age girl reading endless installments of her fantasy novel, and one guy dedicated to proving who “square” we all were by reading us the most offensive/gross shit he could think of until we got annoyed/bored. There were others, but those were the main ones. The amazing thing about it was how the open mic always had 1 of these types at any time, but never more than one. if one left, s/he got replaced. Like someone got central casting on the phone and had them send another. after i left florida, i went to open mics in both oregon and new york, and discovered in each place the same index of character types, in nearly the same proportions. It was a fascinating discovery, but mostly what it did was help me grow out of open mics.
PS- don’t trust the 4 more minutes guy. He’s lying. They’re all always lying.
“abstract and/or omniscient” – that’s awesome.
I hosted an open mic night for several years, and it was amazing how consistent the archetypes were. We always had one girl screaming out diary entries, an angry white dude rapper with a not-quite-cool stage name, a new age girl reading endless installments of her fantasy novel, and one guy dedicated to proving who “square” we all were by reading us the most offensive/gross shit he could think of until we got annoyed/bored. There were others, but those were the main ones. The amazing thing about it was how the open mic always had 1 of these types at any time, but never more than one. if one left, s/he got replaced. Like someone got central casting on the phone and had them send another. after i left florida, i went to open mics in both oregon and new york, and discovered in each place the same index of character types, in nearly the same proportions. It was a fascinating discovery, but mostly what it did was help me grow out of open mics.
PS- don’t trust the 4 more minutes guy. He’s lying. They’re all always lying.
HA!
HA!
fuck slams / slam poetry
fuck slams / slam poetry
dang
yes
dang
yes
the first guy looks like he’s reading from the necronomicon.
the first guy looks like he’s reading from the necronomicon.
That was great, Jimmy.
That was great, Jimmy.
yesssss.
yesssss.
Can I assume it is safe to say that attending poetry events (slam, whatever) makes things suck for you? Because doesn’t every poetry event have its archetypes? None-the-less, I find this funny. But I think stuff like this depends on location for some reason. I’ve been to countless open mics/poetry events and the stereotypes (archetypes, whatever) were at a less frequent ratio. Especially at this one joint which had a 1 to 50 ratio. One being the stereotype, 50 being the number of open mic nights. This ain’t a response to Jimmy’s post more than it is the comments.
Jimmy’s post is heelarious. I had sex with a feminist/hippie chick with armpit hair who was into me due to my performances on the poetry circuit and such. I kinda wore her out.
Don’t doubt those armpit hair chicks man. They’re sometimes the best ones to check out.
Can I assume it is safe to say that attending poetry events (slam, whatever) makes things suck for you? Because doesn’t every poetry event have its archetypes? None-the-less, I find this funny. But I think stuff like this depends on location for some reason. I’ve been to countless open mics/poetry events and the stereotypes (archetypes, whatever) were at a less frequent ratio. Especially at this one joint which had a 1 to 50 ratio. One being the stereotype, 50 being the number of open mic nights. This ain’t a response to Jimmy’s post more than it is the comments.
Jimmy’s post is heelarious. I had sex with a feminist/hippie chick with armpit hair who was into me due to my performances on the poetry circuit and such. I kinda wore her out.
Don’t doubt those armpit hair chicks man. They’re sometimes the best ones to check out.
I wonder how this affects the performers that actually have some talent/originality. Do the archetypical readers make someone who would otherwise be just okay or a little bit better than average seem really great? Or do they not have any impact at all? Don’t know if it even matters.
I wonder how this affects the performers that actually have some talent/originality. Do the archetypical readers make someone who would otherwise be just okay or a little bit better than average seem really great? Or do they not have any impact at all? Don’t know if it even matters.
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Belly laugh! Pretty much sums up why slams give me the heeby-jeebies – although I agree you could do one for any poetry or literary reading. Please do! Give me more belly laugh…. I loved your “Fiction Workshops Examined” one as well.
Belly laugh! Pretty much sums up why slams give me the heeby-jeebies – although I agree you could do one for any poetry or literary reading. Please do! Give me more belly laugh…. I loved your “Fiction Workshops Examined” one as well.
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