To all interested parties:

We have consulted with the pundits of Schleimige Ecke (Slime Corner), specifically with Bobby the plough, Bud Lite’s baby brother who attended three seminars at John Marshall Law School before performing his mandatory service to the State as a super-highway hedge trimmer. Bobby and the pundits have informed us that the Mother Slam, the Green Mill Uptown Poetry Slam, may not be able to comply with the Ten Commandants of Slam Certification as outlined by the PSI Institution in its e-mail directive dated November 15, 2000. Our leader, Mr. Marc “So What!” Smith, who used to be head honcho of the PSI outfit (until he became a lame duck quack who loafs long afternoons away in an armchair dreaming of past flights of glory) has not and will not be notified.

Please note that Schleimige Ecke has convened on multiple evenings caucusing over a variety of beverages, way beyond last call, so as to thoroughly scrutinize the issues addressed herein. Do not think we have arrived at these opinions in a hasty manner. Point by point we nosed over them and point by point here is what we have concluded

THE FOLKS AT PSI SAY:

“As the SlamMaster of an event sanctioned and registered/certified with
Poetry Slam, Inc., the SlamMaster and/or his or her assigns agree:”

1. To provide a poetry event which is open to all people regardless of
race, class, gender, sexual orientation, national origin, religion,
ethnicity or lifestyle;”

We vote to adopt Commandant One just as long as we hold onto the right to boo assholes off stage (and out the door if necessary) as soon they prove themselves to be pompous, preachy, boring, and/or pretentious. We have found that such assholish tendencies come attached to all the varieties of personal mentioned above; and whereas the “Come From Money Blue-Blooded American A-Hole” is one of the most conspicuous of the rear portals, the “Screeching Feminist ‘I’m a Victim’ A-Hole” and the “Ghetto Fashion Glamour Junkie A-Hole” and the “Pissed Off Finger Pointing Righteous A-Hole” (among so many others) have equal qualifications in our minds and should be treated with equal distain and swift removal once their self-indulgent pontificating becomes unbearable – Amen.

2. That Poetry Slam, Inc. will permit a venue registered or certified to
serve a specific segment of the population (e.g. an all women's Poetry
Slam) provided that the organizers demonstrate a need for such an event
within that community to PSI, and provided that the municipality or
geographical area in question is already represented by a regular Poetry
Slam series open to all participants. Exceptions are also made for
venues where local laws prohibit minors, or physical characteristics of
the building cannot accommodate everyone. Demonstrable effort should be
made to provide an opportunity for any legally protected group to
participate, where no other local options to participate in a Poetry
Slam team exist. It is further understood that Poetry Slam events which
are open to all are given precedence in team selection for the National
Poetry Slam;

This one required several hours (and several cases) of deliberation. It’s our guess that the second commandant contradicts the first, adhering to the longstanding American tradition of “promise them everything but keep them confused” politics. Ezra Pound may have raised ambiguity to a godlike position among the poetry whos but the pundits of Slim Corner live by another code: “Say what you mean or shut up. … and don’t yap out both cracks of your puss at once.” 

Our conclusion: let everybody in and keep the assholes from babbling on without a leash. (Ottawa Bill moved to adopt this commandant so as to certify his “Hillbilly Redneck We Hang Woosseys by Their Pussy-Lovin’ Curlicues” Slam, which meets on an irregular basis in the back room of Cut Rate Liquors, but we voted him down.)

3. That the SlamMaster must provide team members with a National Poetry
Slam rulebook before participating in any sanctioned National Poetry
Slam event, and encourage team members to read and understand the rules
and guidelines;

Oh boy, were we slippin’ off our stools when Alf reads us Number Three. Our “So What!” leader, Mr. Smith, ain’t conducted a slam competition the same way twice in fifteen years. The only rule he goes by is: get the show done on time …which, by the way, ain’t half bad an idea to slap onto these National Slams that run off at the mouth into the wee hours of the morning when there ain’t nobody left to listen to the yappers except the janitor and the yet-to-be-on-stage poets who are squawkin’ in the back row … and don’t you love that word “must”! Like it’s the law or something. When we who inhabit Slim Corner hear the words “must” or “shall” we end up laughing so hard we piss in our pantyhose.

4. To create a fair and equitable Poetry Slam while providing leadership
which encourages, illuminates and supports established standards of good-sportsmanship;

Hey, we like this one, sounds like the girl scouts … but it surprised us that it didn’t say good-sportspersonship.

5. To provide, to the best of his or her ability, a professional working
environment for all poets and audience members.

Oh my god, the howl that rolled up over the bar rail when Bobby threw this one up over his foam: “professional working environment!” All of us have suffered through “So What’s!” whiney tales about the horror shows he’s had to perform at. Shopping malls. Pool rooms. Laundromats. The American Legion Hall in South Berwyn under blinding fluorescent lamps. Open mikes that put the audience into comatose. Tinker toy microphones. Belligerent waitresses. Drunken hosts … we’ll keep our end up. Hope the rest do as well.

6. To provide an atmosphere of mutual support and encouragement in which
poets are invited to develop, network and grow;

Okay, we agree with number six.

7. To provide an atmosphere in which freedom of speech,
self-determination, and pursuit of creative excellence is an inalienable
right. It is understood that audience members not in competition or
affiliated with the venue's organization are unregulated;

Wow! Sounds like we’re running a small country. “Unregulated”… that sure is a mild term for the anarchy we’re familiar with. Organized chaos is what we call it. We vote yes and you can count that vote as many times as you want.

8. To endeavor to create an environment in which all poets in good
standing with PSI are allowed to pursue their craft peacefully and
without censure;

Now how do these slam poets get to be in good standing? By agreeing with all the rules like Taylor Mali (the guy who wrote ‘em) or by calling for a recount like Senator Gush from Tennetexsee? We here in Slime Corner always toe the line between obedience and dis-o, and when the cops come, sometimes we shut up and sometimes we let them escort us out. We try to be peaceful except when we’re not. “So What!” has crossed the line between righteous violence and raging ego on a number of occasions – dumb fuck that he is. He says there’s always something new to learn from extreme humiliation -- guess we agree with Comm-dot-8.

(Bring-Along-Bill is standing up to emphasize his good standing posture. Betty, however, is slumped over the rail asleep. Both are peaceful for the moment … but it’s still early.)

9. To do his or her best to be a good host by providing necessary local
information relevant to his or her guest poets' travel, including but
not limited to information about local hotels, restaurants and other
points of interest;

The loophole in this one is “other points of interest.” All our eyebrows (all at once) climbed up into where our hairlines used to be when we read it. Let us tell you one thing, if not nine others, we’ve had fifteen years packed full of slam poets. In fact, as you know, we invented them, and believe us, where we’ve seen them go in pursuit of “Points of Interest” … oh our god! … get the bail money ready. Now, we ain’t sayin’ we wanna stop ‘em from doin’ what they want to do, but ol’ “So What!” ain’t much of an underbelly tour guide. His idea of a high time is walkin’ in the park and lookin’ at the weeds pollinate. We’ll just give it to you straight … right here … in writing … read it over whenever you get the itch to get gig on the lapels of the Big Shoulders. 1) By car, boat, train, plane, or bicycle, get here anyway you can, 2) stay at the Heart of Chicago Motor Inn (just don’t tell ‘em you’re a slam poet – they’ve got a long memory), 3) eat at the Mexican restaurant next door to the Green Mill, and 4) consult a man named Shappy concerning any and all Points of Interest. You’ll recognize Shappy by the twisted excitement in his eyes, the butterflies fluttering around his tongue, and the bluebacks resting on his belt buckle.

10. To agree to comply with local, state and federal laws pertaining to
individual civil rights and sexual harassment and to do his or her best
to provide a safe environment for all participants. When artistic and
creative expression on stage during a performance conflicts with legal
statutes regarding physical or sexual harassment, it is understood that
the poet may be creatively representing a voice or point of view other
than his or her own and is not necessarily espousing the point of view
of the poem and the poet's rights to creative expression shall remain in effect.

God damn, we thought we had this all worked out in committee but I guess when it comes down to words on paper we just ain’t in as much disagreement as we thought. For agitation’s sake, however, we lobby to add an Eleventh Commandant before agreeing to swallow the other ten, and that is:

The audience is always right, and that’s not to say the mob is, but the audience who usually knows if things are kosher and seems to contain a little bit of everybody in it. Of course in the case of a divided congregation, Slime Corner reserves the right to exercise a final say on every opinion professed. We’ve been here the longest, and we stay the longest; and that takes poetic stamina.

Respectfully submitted,

C. C. Jones
Executive Director of the End of the Bar (by the telephone) known to those in the know as Schleimige Ecke -- Slime Corner

Green Mill, Chicago