  I just got home from the Urbana slam. It's pretty fucked up that I feel (felt) more at home at a place with a urlLink bipolar, ex?coke addict that fired me unjustly then I do any where else.
I've been slamming this week . Last monday at Bar 13, this wednesday at the nuyo (quite frankly the worst poetry I'd ever heard other then John S. Hall and this guy that used his foreskin for parchment? ) Anyway I did ok and when I mean ok, I mean I did well enough in my performance to not feel bad.
I've had a bad case of urlLink nerves lately. Actually more like panic attacks with shaking cold and hands and the stench of groping eyes on my back. It's not easy being cheesy so get off mah back fo' sheezy I have this theory, that if you've been in the slam scene long enough without making a team, you just stop giving a shit, or maybe worse yet you do. I'm caught in the contradiction of both these feelings but it's not about the slam (really). It's more about being able to go up on stage and pour my heart out and be honest in a place other then the context of a 10x10 room on the lower east side.
I felt like i did that tonight and i was relaxed (and sober.......mostly) and most important I wanted to share and even better I had people that wanted to listen. I did one new poem. The others were mercilessly trapped on a computer disk without a kinko's in sight. ( I found out later that there was on on astor place but that would have been way too far to walk) urlLink Taylor and urlLink ed gave me some good advice on my pacing.
The shit was just too long and not in the corny urlLink time penalty way but more in the pacing and over padding of the work. a year ago that wouldn't have been a problem but there are tons of lines i've grown out of and my shit (that has clocked in 2:59 second) was well into 4 minutes Anyway, being able to perform without the crutch that is him was definately freeing...... and I'm excited about putting out new work , because i'm just as sick of my shit as you may be... till next time "I wonder in the what if's of tesseracts so bend my back like the time space continum" p.s.
OH! and matt, that panty dropper poem you did? WHATEVER...This woman bought me a drink and she wasn't a lesbian but she would have been with ME. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AND WHAT!@?!? ! 
