Fulano, comic books and…porn stars?
Friday’s feature went really well. Ended up being a 20-minute set but, not knowing til the last minute, I’d prepared a flexible enough list beforehand (aka Down the Hatch: 2 beers, atomic wings & waffle fries!) and was pretty comfortable dealing with the time limit. Mixed some really old with some brand new as I opened with Reality, a piece I haven’t done in ages that I was able to edit and memorize in the hour between getting off work and the start of the show. Started it from the audience, a common slam technique for effect, but also a great way to settle one’s own nerves. The equivalent of just jumping in the pool headfirst. I was happy to see that I was quite nervous as Jackie announced the final open micer before the feature and my stomach went all aflutter. I’ve always said the day you stop getting nervous when you get on stage is the day you need to stay off the stage because the privilege has lost its meaning and its importance.
After a brief introduction, I did Fulano, another one I haven’t done in ages. Between the two, I realized I hadn’t grown cynical about slam over the years but, instead, had been that way from the beginning. It’s right there in several of my early poems but no more apparent than Fulano: “to have come so far for this, seems such a waste.” Next, I took a gamble and did my new Batman piece that I wrote and posted here just last week. Thought it read pretty smoothly, especially considering it was the first time out loud! Went with the Army suite next, the poems I wrote this year touching on my time in the service, gave props to the Nuyorican and keith roach (for the benefit of the documentarians) with Nuyorican Memories, and closed with the old standby, Breathless. Thematically, I felt like it was one of my strongest features ever, covering a range of styles, periods and subjects while all flowing together extremely well. The reading itself was pretty good, too, getting a little wacky towards the end as a couple of Columbia and Brown students took to dissing each other in a rather pale (pun intended!) attempt at the dozens.
Nice gig Jackie Sheeler runs there and, if not for the tough time slot, it’s a place I could see myself hitting once or twice a month.