The Poetry Smack Down happened at the Fringe outdoor stage. Tod Caviness was the host. Judges included Beth Marshall, Michael Marinaccio, Eric Yow and several other producer-directors. Tod lead off the event with a spoken word piece about Orlando called Swamp. It makes Orlando sound like a pretty cool place to be. None of the poets at this event relied on sheets of paper or iPhones. Their words were deeply rooted in their memories and the cadence, beat and flow were well rehearsed. These were monologues from the heart, some raw and some humorous.
A heavy set woman got on stage and she knocked any preconceptions to the ground as she spoke passionately about her queef. This is a word so seldom heard, or uttered, that my computer insists it is spelled wrong. At first the audience was in shock, but soon everyone was roaring with laughter. Beth gave high marks for this passionate poem about a woman’s right to let go. A male poet followed her with his passionate poem about how he would like to f*ck the whites from his woman’s eyes. He later spoke of religion and intolerance with insight and level headed reflection. You never know what to expect at a smack down.
My wife was covered in gold. We had been to a James Bond themed party earlier that day. With her Gold Finger, face, hands and sequined dress she fit in perfectly on the green lawn of fabulousness. She sat with her literary friends while I sketched. The face paint was starting to make her uncomfortable however so, as soon as I was done with my sketch, we had to go.