I don’t do slam.
Not like slam I am.
I prefer spam.
Grilled.
Or bologna or cheese please.
Anything but slam.
I Don’t Do Slam
April 11, 2007 by ybonesy
6 Responses
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I’m afraid I don’t do slam either. I finally dug down to the poetry with Homesick for Rest. But couldn’t get into the Slam aspect of the Slam-o-rama post. It’s good to know where my limits are!
Intense drawing. Tons of energy flowing through it.
Love the SPAM link! It’s one of our claims to fame here in Minnesota:
“All Roads Lead to Austin
It is said that within the hallowed halls of the 16,500 square foot SPAM® Museum lies the sum of all human knowledge. After all, SPAM® is the cradle of civilization. It is the ultimate culinary perfection. Within these walls, all of life’s questions will be deliciously answered.
Every SPAMTM Fan needs to make a pilgrimage to the SPAM® Museum. It is the very center of the SPAMTM universe. It is a necessary journey for anyone who loves canned meat.”
I haven’t been to the museum – YET. But I heard you can find T-shirts all over garage sales around and near Austin, Minnesota.
My favorite is the history page and the SPAM can design:
http://www.spam.com/museum/spam_history.aspx
That’s architecture, isn’t it?
QM
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My older sister, the sister who lives in Hawaii, says that Hawaii is the #1 Spam consuming state (per capita I am sure).
At Borrego Pass, on the Navajo Indian reservation, I used to buy breakfast burritos from a local lady who’d come to the school. My favorite was Spam, potato, and green chile. Tasty! [I think Spam was part of their commodities package.]
mm
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I didn’t know Spam was a Minnesota phenomenon. My dad used to eat it grilled in sandwiches. He actually took it to work for lunch. My brother told me it was snake meat, so I hated it.
Hey, about the art of slamming, it’s the performance that gets to me, too. That’s kind of scary, given that I had wanted to start doing open mic at a local coffeeshop where a few writers are thinking of going once a month or so. But maybe reading your work and doing slam are two different things. Something about the word “slam” is so violent. It reminds me of rap. Now that I think about it, it’s not so much the performance as it is the idea of aggressive performance.
I wonder if I should try to slam this poem, which I made up when I was a kid:
I yam what I yam
I yam toe jam
I yam what I please
I yam toe cheese
I yam what I do
I yam tofu
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Reminds me of Pop-eye the Sailor Man. Minus the toe jam. : – )
QM
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[…] May 13th, 2007 by ybonesy I got a call on Friday asking if I would be one of seven bilingual speakers to present dramatic readings of Pablo Neruda poetry and views of his political life. “Si, como no,” I said (although afterwards I worried that “dramatic readings” were a second cousin to slam, which, as I’ve noted before, I don’t do). […]
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[…] I got a call on Friday asking if I would be one of seven bilingual speakers to present dramatic readings of?Pablo Neruda poetry and views of his political life. “Si, como no,” I said (although afterwards I worried that “dramatic readings” were a second cousin to?slam, which, as I’ve noted before, I don’t do). […]
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