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Lately, I’ve been meeting slam poets who have never participated in a poetry slam. Let me be clear. I’m not talking about spoken word artists working outside of the slam movement; these are self-proclaimed slam poets with no interest in participating in poetry slams. They’ve never attended one and have no intention of doing so.
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Twelve years ago in my CEGEP English class, my teacher attempted to teach thirty very apathetic eighteen year-olds about the twentieth century literary currents that lead to Postmodernism by handing out package of poems by various writers: Tristan Tzara, William Carlos Williams, Frank O’Hara, and at the back, a recent poem, “a car wash the size of a peach” by Jonathan Goldstein.
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