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This offering is part of the Poetry Flop House Series.
the mesa national slam team 1999
by Bill Campana author info
it was in your apartment, Greg,
that Team Mesa celebrated
it's first ever victory
in a national bout.
Sister Spit's
Rolling Rock Schwinn bicycle
(parked in the kitchen)
celebrated with us.
it was moving (the celebration not the bike).
we ate all of your peanuts.
from the balcony
we watched the team mascot
(a grey squirrel named Scooter McCrackhead)
play in the dumpster.
Eirean Bradley and myself
filled the ashtray
until it was mt. firehazzard.
poets like to smoke.
Eirean, Spyro Panosoupolis,
and myself, had lighter-callous
on our thumbs.
breakfast at MY PLACE.
eat at your own risk.
i ordered steak and eggs
and was told
that Eirean got the last steak.
damn.
this is Chicago!
is it possible to run out of beef?!
back in the apartment,
Patrick Hare gazing
at the Sodom and Gomorrah poster
wondered aloud,
"i know what sodomy is.
but, what is gomorrahmy?"
i taught the boys a thing or two
about snoring on a hard wood floor,
but no noise was crazier than
the couple fighting above us
on Sunday morning at 3am.
this was no typical fight.
this was violent shouting
accompanied by the rearranging of furniture.
honest to God, i thought they were
chasing each other with sofas.
it was a nightmare.
i swear they were rehearsing
for Jerry Springer.
it was a nightmare.
i imagined that later
they would cry about it on Oprah.
Greg, those were five unforgettable days
in Chicago. You made us feel welcomed, and
Team Mesa will forever look upon that time
as a great experience, and we thank you.
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Bill Campana was a member of the 1998- 2001 Mesa National Poetry Slam Teams. Bill was the reigning "Poet Warrior" of the House of Jones Poetry Slam. His work can be found in Anthology Magazine
The Poetry Flop House Series:
In 1992 I acquired a large, cheap apartment in the weirdly beautiful Uptown neighborhood in Chicago. Dozens of touring artists, mostly poets, crashed there for a night or more. They were on tour, temporarily homeless, too drunk to get home, or had other reasons. When my old place went condo in November 2001, I began soliciting tributes from the talented minds who slept on its beds, couches and floors. A blessing of real estate fate gave me another big Uptown apartment; any poets who flop will pay with poetry.
- Greg Gillam, Fengi editor.
All material copyright the authors, printed with permission.
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