P is for Poetry Slam

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I am obsessed with the concept of poetry slams. Don’t know what a poetry slam is? Watch this for a little taste:

Doesn’t that seem awesome? I really would like to go and observe one. There’s a bar in Phoenix that had poetry slams. I even got free tickets for one. But when the time came to go, I balked. It’s hard to park in the art district at night. I could take the light rail, but it’s an hour to get there and an hour back, double the travel time if I drove. Plus I don’t drink and I haven’t been in a bar for forty years. Yep, I talked myself out of it. And now that people don’t gather any more, the bar in question isn’t sure they’ll even still be in business by the time restrictions are lifted. I lost my chance. Maybe I’ll try again when the pandemic is over.

In the meantime, virtual poetry slams are an option. Thank you, YouTube. Grand Slam Poetry Champion Harry Baker recites three of his poems. I’m glad it is closed captioned. (You’ll see why when he gets to the second poem.)

Maybe someday I’ll actually read one of my poems. . .

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