And We're Done, RIP Slam Poetry

Claim: Well, Slam is now officially mainstream. Which means it is, in deed, dead -- at least in spirit.

Factual Proof: I saw at the Border's today a book: The Idiot's Guide to Slam Poetry. So, if you were feeling rebellious and smart, and like you wanted to speak truth to power, or just wanted to read poetry written in really short lines about the hair on your testicles really loudly while in drag, For-Get-It. It's over.

Half-Clever Metaphor: As in de-coded and souled out.

Emotional Proof: I have seen in my day some completely A-Maz-Ing Slam and Performance and Spoken Word and Fusion poetry (whatever it wants to call itself), I mean breathtaking, lightning bolt, soul cracking poetry. The performances with the Artists Night Out hosted by Wil Richey in Dallas are a case in point. I have seen really smartly dressed up political rants. I have seen people who don't really have problems bitch and yell on stage about their "problems" while leaning on the mic and smoking in a James Dean Redux. I have heard some miserable crap whored up in hip-hop beats about menses and dating and suicidal tendencies (about all of which it is possible to write good poetry). I have seen the Geek Slam in Austin and slurped it up through my very own flexi-straw while watching a simultaneous Scrabble-Off. I have sighed and fawned over Henry Rollins doing his thing, especially when he set up a rhyme and breaks it. I've cheered the teams from Texas when the national slam comes around. I wanted to get a road trip together from Texas when the Nationals were in St. Louis (free place to crash).

Restatement of Claim: But, now that the whole culture and purpose is laid out like a set of fucking party tricks, it's time to go home before you get grounded.

Sorry, it's just done.

Conclusion: The poetry will live, and evolve. But had there ever been an Idiot's Guide to Punk, I would have personally beaten the author with a pipe (back in those days, I would have, but not now). So, instead of that old response, I'll just say this: Sorry, my dear serious and my dear deluded rebels alike. You have been codified.

Implication: Now, Go. Do . Something. They. Don't . Expect.