Hey, DJ, Aren’t You A Spoken-Word Artist?

In some circles, I’m known as a DJ.  In others, I’m known as a photographer.  Yet, most Central Floridians know me as a spoken-word artist.

Photo by Jim Leatherman

Due to schedule conflicts, I don’t read poetry at open-mics much these days.  At the moment, I don’t even miss it.   I do not miss folks talking in the audience as I’m trying to read.   I do not miss folks inviting me to read at special events. And then find out I can’t cuss.   When money was involved, I didn’t mind the no-cussing rule.  At least, I got compensation for it.  As for not cussing and reading for free?  I never liked it.  In the first place,  reading poetry at some events rarely benefited me. All I gained from that is psuedo-intellectuals wanting to talk all night. Contrary to popular belief, poets do not get laid. They get talked to death.

Recently, I was voted Orlando’s Second Best Spoken-Word artist.   Because of my recent inactivity in the poetry scene, I can deal with that.  Of course, I would love to have gotten the number one spot.  Who wouldn’t?   Yet, I can live with number two.

Being number two maybe a good thing.   Pretentious-types avoid number two.  They rather hang around number one, a good thing because pretentious-types annoy me.

Being a DJ has put far more money in my pocket than poetry ever has.  Also, there are times I see more eye candy on my DJ nights versus poetry and open-mic nights. (I might catch shit for saying that. Fuck it, I don’t care.)  The only exception is black poetry readings.  It’s Ass Central on those nights.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not knocking poetry.  In some cases, it has opened doors for me.   Also, I hadn’t given up on writing.  If I did that, I wouldn’t be writing blogs.  Still, I just don’t miss reading poetry at the moment.

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