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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

What’s in a name?

It's raining again here in NYC. Serious, thunder and lightning, shake the building kind of rain. Got my ass soaked heading up to the Bowery earlier. Everything but my crotch and my hair got wet! Two hours later and I'm still not completely dry. Anyway, I have a favor to ask all you random people that read this thing. I'm working on a new show idea, a monthly format with poets & musicians plus a lot of audience interaction. Think a combination of Pardon the Interruption, Politically Incorrect, Who's Line Is It Anyway and Arsenio Hall. Something like that. It…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

“Did u really kill biggie smalls?”

Now THIS is weird. For me, at least, who's more used to technical emails ("how do I get booked at...," "how do I get published...," etc.) than personal ones. Today, I got two separate emails asking about my poem, Confessions of a Serial Killer. It's an old poem that I wrote back in 1997 and have probably read publicly less than 10 times, and only once in the past four years, at Acentos a couple of weeks ago. Both emails asked why I wrote it, the first actually asking (jokingly, I hope), "did u really kill biggie smalls?" My answer…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Monday, Monday... Have some stuff from the weekend to write about but I'll hold off as whoever's reading this today is likely only here for one thing: my take on tonight's Finals. First, how's it going to work? It's a tricky balance of testing the poets' stamina while ensuring an entertaining show for the audience. Five rounds of poetry for a total of 36 poems! That's rough! To make the team, you need a total of six strong poems, five for tonight plus the one from semi-finals that cannot be repeated. This is mainly to avoid the one-to-three-poem wonders that…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

So last night was the rather inauspicious relaunch of louderJAM. Light turnout, low energy and some of the most random MFs on the open mic. WTF?!?! The Impossible Home excerpt was interesting if a little sloppy in its adaptation to a different space. Reminded me somewhat of the erotica reading a few years back at Spy, though not as polished. Curious what the whole production looked like. All in all, it bodes well for future collaborative projects. (Side note: Why is Sabrina so ridiculously talented? Beyond the poetry, she sings, dances and speaks Spanish like it was her native tongue!…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

America is stupid. At least the ones that watch American Idol and take the time to vote. I mean, really, what the fuck was THAT last night?!?! Ruben in the bottom two? Trenyce booted while Camouflage Doughboy lives on? That fake jarhead couldn't even hold his head up while Ruben stood out there waiting for the results, knowing it should have been him instead. Bad enough he didn't get a chance to step on a landmine somewhere in the middle of the deserts of Iraq, doing the job he volunteered for, but to sit up there watching two people with…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Looking for parking in the morning so completely sets my day off on the wrong foot! Looking for it in Brooklyn Heights on a Monday morning - where after driving around for 30 minutes, you stick it on a meter and cross your fingers you'll ONLY get a ticket - sucks like a five hour open mic in the park where the swings are off-limits and there is no shade. I'm a little poetry'd out at this point. Since last Monday, I've been at a poetry reading every day except for Wednesday. Haven't done that since '98 when I used…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

When I first came on the slam scene, I ranted a lot. In my poetry, I mean. Or what I was passing off as poetry. :-O My free write from yesterday was turning into something interesting by the end of the day, too complex to finish before Urbana, and I wanted to read something new in their open mic. Sitting in my old home, Botanica (bizarre now, sans smoky haze), I scribbled out a good ol' rant while thinking of the morons lined up outside of Tower Records the other day for Madonna who pulled her video American Life from…

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