|
|
10th UK
Allcomers Slam
review by AF
Harrold
Town Hall, Cheltenham
Saturday,
October 10, 2004
 Some things never change. For
example, the UK All Comers Slam is fun.
That statement needs qualifying, and here comes the qualification. The
Slam is fun for one set of people: everyone who is not me. It’s possible
that it’s not fun for the other poets taking part either but they always
look happy and smiling and confident so I don’t know.
I spend every Slam wondering just what the blazes I’m doing sat here
again. I remember that I can’t actually remember any poems: not that I
can’t remember the words to them, but that I can’t remember just what
poems exist that I have written and could possibly whip out to dazzle
the audience with. I think to myself maybe I ought to go have another wee.
Sometimes it helps.
Forcing poets to compete in a competition is simply cruel. It’s a bit like
badger baiting but without the badgers and organized a bit better. God
it’s a horrible thing.
But I understand why it’s necessary; it helps to keep the number of poets
wandering the countryside down and really it’s much more humane than
shooting them or letting them spout forth on street corners where they’re
likely to get into trouble. But don’t let anyone tell you they enjoy it.
But the audience like it. And that’s the important thing because poetry is
showbiz and no show is bigger than the UK Allcomers Slam. It’s a great
big sampler-pack of the finest performance poets working in the country
and it’s all collected together under one roof.
Oh, by the way I didn’t win, some man called McGonagall won and he was very
handsome, rugged but intellectual. I don’t know if he was any good because
I was worrying about what poem to read next. Ask the audience, after all
that’s what they’re there for.
© AF Harrold
Back to top
|
