A Down and Dirty POETRY REPORT by Diana Saenz

NITE OF THE DOUBLE-BREASTED AMAZON SLAM

It was Sunday, the last day in the month of March, 1996. We had gotten through the Ides, a hairy winter and five months of smoke-filled cafes. I was at the now defunct, Phoenix Cafe, folding the April issue of the Boston Poet. Aldo sat down and Ann joined us. I asked them if they were going to Ren Jender’s Amazon Slam. "There’s going to be some tough women there," I said tantalizing Aldo who professes to like hard, tough women. His eyes lit up, and he said something like, "I like strong-hard-tough-big women. I like their poetry because it talks about real life. I don’t know anything about "good" poetry, academic stuff, love and flowers. I’ve lived a tough life, I don’t like men, but I love women because I had a beautiful mother who encouraged me to be an artist. . ." Ever thought about the fact that a lot of men don’t like men and a lot of women don’t like men. What about men and women who don’t like women. Then there are those who hate children. And that guy who the Right was feebly trying to call a leftist, the Unabomer, (their spelling) who really doesn’t like computers. It occurs to me for the zillionth time, we live in a very strange society.

As Aldo continued on his favorite subject, I went back to folding the Poet thinking about how Aldo knows that even hard-tough women have been programmed to let a man talk, no matter how many times they’ve heard the same spiel. I can get pretty annoyed and sarcastic when somebody keeps repeating themselves, but I have never had the heart to tell Aldo to clam up, or it would be nice if he would listen to me talk about myself for a change. Well, Aldo’s heart is in the right place and I have a deep respect for that.

Ann said she would like to go. She talked about how she had gone to a women’s retreat last Fall and after feeling warm and joyous and safe she had agreed to read some of her poetry to the women there. To her shock some had severely criticized her content for not having the correct attitude about herself. This surprised me because Ann, an older woman, writes marvelous poetry. I would not say, she’s a hard-tough woman, but she certainly discusses real life issues that reflect the continuing struggle of life from a unique perspective, and from having lived a few more years than many of us who frequent the scene. Her experience at the women’s retreat had left her so scathed that she had avoided all poetry readings since then. Today, in fact, on the last day of March, she had decided to take a tentative step out and check out the Phoenix.

I told her I was thinking of slamming. Actually, I had already selected 15 poems and was going through them to see which ones were slammable. I told her I had never slammed and she said she had never slammed. I said her stuff was very slammable, and that she should try it. After all, it would just be amongst us women. The atmosphere would be very different than a co-ed slam. She agreed to meet me there.

The Slam was at Ryles on 212 Hampshire in Inman Square. We were early and only a few women were there. I bought an excellent glass of house white, ran into Cherie and we all sat together. I folded a few more Poets, and Aldo helped me as the room started to fill up. Ren had been there since I-don’t-know-when setting things up and looking more nervous than any of us. Within 30 minutes the room got noisy. We looked up and to our surprise saw a lot of people there--mostly women. Within the next 10 minutes another 100 or so showed up. When it comes to estimating crowds I’m about as good as the guys in DC who estimated the Million Man March, but upstairs Ryles is a big space and by the time the slam started there was standing room only. There had to be minimum 350 people. 350 hard-tough women, I noted, but Aldo wasn’t talking; Aldo was minding his Ps and Qs and had an indecipherable grin plastered on his face. There were a few other well-behaved men there but the energy was decidedly feminine.

It took Ren a long time to get started. I think she was the most surprised of all and a little overwhelmed. She gave a lengthy explanation to the good-natured but restless crowd.

Ren opened up with a demo slam and read her poem "Whips and Chains" a piece that discusses her lack of interest in bondage I thought about there being "good" bondage and "bad" bondage. "Bad" bondage is something I’ve glimpsed in magazines with weird gags that look like they can give you a case of jaw cramp, blindfolds and collars for Pitt Bulls. It looks like the kind of down-at-the-mouth humiliation that encourages over-the-top behavior. "Good" bondage, doesn’t cost the cow or your pocket anything but is just another way to let go a little bit more with the sexual partner of your choice. I exchanged glances with Cherie and imagined she was asking me why I was smiling--and in my imagination I replied that "good" bondage can be very therapeutic. God knows what Cherie actually was thinking.

Poetry is like that, you see, all aspects of human behavior, desires, practices and beliefs are brought to the fore. Poetry is about life, about its prejudices, inhibitions, psychosis, revelations, ecstasies, structures, snobberies, cliques, disappointments, injustices, vanities, outrages, triumphs, anger, foolishness, gaucheries, rotating your tires and telling your truths--it’s about everything--and the Amazon Slam is about poetry. I looked at Aldo and thought about how we both liked sitting there amid the flower of womanhood--amid tender, sensitive, poetry slinging, and of course, hard, tough women.

Lisa read next. Lisa is an old hand at slamming and reads without a script. The judges gave her a 23+ or so score. Apparently scores always begin low, probably because the judges are judging judiciously and haven’t realized that they will soon be competing also. As this is an off the cuff report, I’m not going to twist up my brain trying to remember who read what. I will add, however, that Ann read one of her marvelous pieces which sent the audience through the roof with cheers and applause. The judges gave her something in the low twenties also, and were summarily hissed and booed by the audience.

I complemented Lisa on her work and bummed a cigarette off her. I was a nervous wreck by the time it was my turn. It was as exciting as the first time I ever got up in front of an audience to read. The adrenaline was racing and although I only received something in the low 20’s I was happy. That kind of good, clean adrenaline rush simply can’t be purchased over the counter. Note:  This first night of Amazon Slam was followed by a very successful five years, and although Ren Jender was never able to qualify this SLAM because it was exclusively for women, it was a glorious run.  Miss Jender is still in the groove creating performance events for the community at large.