1. Those who say that the winner is poetry probably lost their bout; I know this from experience. That’s why humans invented flasks full of Jameson, to coddle them and inflict necessary brain damage in times of loss.
2. Just because you lost your bout doesn’t mean your poetry sucks. Take comfort in knowing your judges did not have taste, even if they had taste.
3. The liver is an amazing organ and can take an abundance of punishment, much like your sister for a negotiable fee. It is important to pace yourselves, drink water or Gatorade between rounds, lest you need a transplant after NPS (let me assure you poets are below the elderly on transplant lists).
4. There’s nothing worse as being ground zero for a new sexually transmitted pandemic. Poets please always remember: no glove, no love. The last thing we want is an STI named after Shappy.
5. Mooching will not be tolerated; thanks to this economy we are all broke and poor so if you need food or drink, barter for it. Your foreskin is not acceptable nor is your slam poem; we want something of true value.
6. When participating in a cipher or poetry tag (because they break out like jock itch or herpes), do not tag in your friends; tag in a stranger. Also, no slam poems in poetry tag. We will have our bellies full of poems in the slam genre this week and we will wish our stomachs kicked because of this. Let’s hear something interesting.
7. Failure is an invaluable learning tool.
8. Have fun in Florida; you’ll find we not only can count but do so very well.
P.S.: telling the truth at a poetry slam is like finding a unicorn: fun until you get gored by the facts.