Minneapolis 2, or A Quick Pic

Hey, check it out! A poet named Evan got a picture of me being a poet! (For the record, the shirt reads, "Don't Touch My Hair!" and I got it here. The link shows what's on the back of the shirt. I got so many compliments on it, and it led me to meet many people with awesome hair (as well as a bunch of buzzed and bald folks who think there should be a "Yes, I'm bald, no you can't rub my head" shirt.) I should also point out that I wasn't having a great hair night on the night this was taken.

This is me "sacrificing", by the way. In every poetry slam, there is one poet who performs without being part of the competition, to warm up the judges. They call it the sacrificial poet. I got to sacrifice twice, in addition to reading at multiple open mics and competing in two side slams for unaffiliated poets (did horribly in both of them). I love sacrificing, though - all the audience and none of the pressure!