It was slam poetry night down at Lui\u2019s. The pub was packed with artistic types and people with an abnormally high tolerance for cringe. Under dull orange stage lights, the mic-stand stood like a mythical sword awaiting the would-be king that would wield it. As it turned out, not a king, but a self-styled Prince sauntered out from stage-left and took the mic in her hand. She tapped on it with a finger to make sure it was working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She cleared her throat. \u201cI am Hiodoshi Ao.\u201d She waited for applause. When there was none, she continued. \u201cThis is a poem I wrote. I call it\u2026\u201d She let a few moments crawl by. \u201c\u2019Blue\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She snatched the mic from its stand and throttled it as though it were a viper. After her fit was over, she closed her eyes and whispered into the mic, \u201cI\u2019m blue.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pub had gone quieter than a silent disco.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ao cracked open an eyelid and peeked out at the anonymous faces staring up at her, completely enthralled. She had them and she knew it. \u201cDa Ba Dee,\u201d she howled, clenching her fist and lowering it slowly. \u201cDa Ba Die,\u201d she crooned. \u201cI\u2019m blue!\u201d she sang, holding the high note and putting some egregious vibrato on it. A few bottles shattered behind the bar and one of the flood lights exploded. With the scent of spilled liquor in the air and sparks raining down around her, she tilted her head and addressed the audience with a Mona Lisa smirk. \u201cIsn\u2019t that cool?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mistaking the collective trauma of the room for silent adulation, Ao bowed and said, \u201cThank you, everyone. I\u2019ll be available to sign autographs later. Bring your own pen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As she was about to stride offstage, someone in the audience shouted, \u201cBlue!? More like, \u2018BOOOOO\u2019!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ao, stopped, thunderstruck. Her scalp prickled with sweat. She looked down from the stage and saw a young woman with fox ears and short bangs staring up at her. \u201cExc\u2026 Excuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSorry, can\u2019t do it,\u201d said the young woman. \u201cThat was inexcusable. Immoral. Possibly illegal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIllegal?\u201d Ao croaked. \u201cIt\u2019s poetry! Poetry has no rules. How can it be illegal?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know, but you just made a good case for banishing it from our society altogether with that performance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ao stiffened. \u201cI\u2019d like to see you do better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine! Watch this.\u201d The young woman climbed on stage and walked over to the mic. \u201cHi, my name\u2019s Polka and here\u2019s a poem. It\u2019s called, \u2018Your poem\u2019s whack and so are you\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The audience cheered. Ao stared in horror. Polka beat-boxed with one side of her mouth and spit bars with the other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIambic pentameter these nuts
You don\u2019t have the guts
To stand with the best of \u2018em
No ifs ands or buts<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And if I see you up on stage
Better get back in your cage
\u2018Cause I\u2019m Hamlet, you\u2019re Hamtaro
You\u2019re a rat, I\u2019m the rage<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And if you still don\u2019t get it
I\u2019ll spell it out so you don\u2019t forget
Y. P. W. A. S. A. Y.
Say it with me, kinglet<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Your Poem\u2019s Whack And So Are You\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bouquets rained down on the stage. The room roared with rapturous applause. People in the audience were clambering over one another to get closer. At Polka\u2019s feet was a bluish bundle of rags that, on closer inspection, turned out to be Ao in the fetal position. She knelt down next to the fallen prince and rested a hand on her shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t take it personally, little one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow did you become such a good poet?\u201d wheezed Ao.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Polka tilted her head. \u201cPoet?\u201d She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. Then she chuckled, ruffled Ao\u2019s hair and stood up. \u201cI\u2019m not a poet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ao looked up at her. \u201cThen what are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Polka stared over the heads of the frothing crowd, as if at something only she could see in the dim light of the pub. She smiled. \u201cI\u2019m a comedian.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n
[kofi]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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