As I've described before in my occasional poetry postings, I've been the regular emcee for a monthly poetry and prose open-mic night for the past several years. One of the events we have every four months is an "Island Style Slam", wherein participants put in three bucks, get three words back, and then have twenty minutes to come up with something that uses those three words.

There are typically three or four sets of words at any given Island Style Slam, and I've enjoyed taking on the task of trying to come up with an "uber poem" that uses every word from every set, which I then read as the first "sacrificial poem" to get things started.

The following uber poem, from earlier this year, was a bit of a departure from my other poems, in that I tried to go for the serious artsy-fartsy style that is so popular among the younger slam poets. I put myself in the frame of mind by thinking, "If I were young, what serious things would I write about?"

So here is my attempt at being a serious, artsy-fartsy poet. My nine words were grapple, shingles, girlfriend, yield, wind, mother, curl, piercing, and celtic:

My girlfriend and I
grapple at clothing
limbs
and hair
which yield easily enough

Just As the wind
struggles to get past the shingles
on our roof
-which do not.
Then comes the celtic shriek
piercing enough to
straighten that which is curled
curl that which is straight

The most unwelcome visitor of all.
Mother.