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Team Tucson 2-0 Part 3

Sunday night we had a show at the grill, but that was rather unremarkable.  So I will waste no time talking about it, and move on to Tuesday's event.

Tuesday night at the UA poetry center the Tucson Slam went head to head with a group of academic poets from the University of Arizona.  When performing our own original work we won, but it was in the bonus rounds that they really shined.  There was a cover poem, where each team chose a poet to recite a work of classical poetry.  Our representative had a finger puppet of the poet she was performing.  Surely that would ensure our victory, but they had this really long poem that was performed beautifully.

Their was also a round where we had to give them a copy of one of our poems and they had to read it.  They handed us this poem that had these gigantic variants in font size.  Everything from inches high, to millimeters small, the poem just looked imposing.  But our team member rocked it.

We handed the all male team a poem entitled "Redfoot Woman"  an identity piece about female sexuality, and sexuality in general.  The refrain of the poem is "I am redfoot woman"  But the person they chose to do it, did this incredibly silly rendition, and they truly deserved that win.

Then came the final round.  We had been told at the beginning that the final round would be a limerick round and we were to write them about the other team.

We had this amazing limerick about the guy that read Redfoot woman.  Their was some random thing about oral sex.  We won all was well, and we made some decent money too.

Now all we have left is one practice, and then Nationals.  I plan on blogging through Nationals so stay tuned.

Team Tucson 2-0 Part 2

So we get home from Mesa at about 5:00am. I found out that I act drunk when I am really tired. I am only 18, but people kept asking me if I had been drinking. Go figure.

So on Saturday night we had another show (For those of you keeping track at home that's 3 shows in a row.) This slam was like every other slam except Team Tucson was the feature. We all rocked it, but there was one moment which sticks out in my mind.

I am in a group piece that talks about why kid's eat their boogers (hilarious poem, I wish I had written it) Everything was going well until we approached these two lines.

Would we have evolved this behavior without justification?
Would children cling to this habit just to make parents angry?

The first line belongs to the woman who wrote the poem, the other line is mine. However as she said her line, what came out of her mouth was:

Would children cling to this habit without justification?

I still don't know how it happened, but somehow my brain went into overdrive, I realized that she had switched the line up, and somehow managed to come up with the perfect line to follow that one:

Would we have evolved this behavior just to make parents angry?

Call it a poetry miracle, or great feat of mental maneuvering, that was the best way to mess up a line.

The rest of the night was a really awesome slam. Loads of cool poets were there and the ones I thought were good were advancing for the part. The judges were feeling harsh that night, but that gave me an excuse to boo them loudly (which killed my throat. Not that I had to worry about it, my poetry was done for the night.

The after party was fun, and all in all it was a great night. I'm going to wrap it up here and give more details about the later events in future posts.

Team Tucson 2-0

I happen to have the privilege of being a member of the Tucson slam team. So far we have had two shows, and two competitions. They were all awesome. But as those few words hardly qualify as a blog post I will expound.

On Thursday we had a show at the loft, but I already ranted about it's awesomeness, so I will move on. The next day the whole team, and our coach's girlfriend piled into a minivan and drove up to Mesa. They had requested our presence for a bout. This was the first time that any of us chose out poems on the spot. It is good slam strategy to pick your poem based on the poem that went before it, so that is what we did. There was a great deal of awesome poetry, but we ended up just barely pulling ahead. but it is not what happened during the event, but after it that was truly magical.

The venue was essentially an alley with some tables. The entire slam the wind was blowing and their was lightning and thunder. The threat of a monsoon downpour was always imminent. But the clouds held. Then the slam ended. Mere seconds after we got all the expensive sound equipment inside the clouds erupted. Any other group of people would have ran for shelter, but we are poets.

Both teams ran about the rain, splashing in puddles. I even got up on a table and did the "To be or not to be" soliloquy from Hamlet. Then one person spoke up, and said the one thing that excellently summed up the situation

"This is the perfect date. It's pouring rain. He's doing Shakespeare. She's in her underwear. I'm soaking wet. And it didn't cost me a thing."

As this post is getting rather long I will save the descriptions of the other events for later posts. So stay tuned.