The Grand-Pappy of Slam Poetry - the man who launched an entire seminal genre of performance art - reads my absolute favorite piece of his of all time. Decades later and this holds up more than ever.
I grew up in Chicago. Slam Poetry started at the Green Mill when I was 18...the year my baby brother was born. My step-dad, "The Prince of Dicks" (a play on his name as a mascot) has missed very few Sundays at the Mill in 30 years. My mom went too, of course. I even read a piece at the open mic portion of one Sunday Slam with hopes of pleasing them (acceptance has never been their strong-suit). It wasn't too long after that I heard Marc Kelly Smith perform this piece at The Mill.
And it took my breath away
Being in my early 20s (my brain hadn't even fully-formed yet!) I FELT this. And for the first time I wanted to BE the person at the top of that mountain...just SO I could pull the next one up!
I am in my Second Half now but I STILL dreamandhopeandworkandpray to get to the top of the mountain...to pull the next one up. The next man...the next woman...up, up, up.
