WITH TOMÁS RIVERA***image1***SFR: I hear you have a poem about going back into the womb.
TR:
That's an interesting interpretation of it. I'm almost certain you're referring to a poem I wrote about heartbreak. I spent a lot of time analyzing that relationship and figuring out why it failed and the dynamics there. I realized I had all these issues with my parents and so that's why it's called 'Freud Would Have a Field Day with This.' There was this really awesome potential for something to happen. And I was expecting this beautiful little creature to come out of it, and it was stillborn.
How are the poems born?
It's an organic thing. I have a journal and I kind of ramble on paper and sometimes there are things that match up and I put them together. I think there's an unnatural dichotomy between personal poems and political poems-with art, generally-people view them as these separate things. So I'll often times write about an experience that I've had, and then I start to connect it to the world. And then I just keep sanding it down until I have something.
Do you actually practice your pieces aloud? In front of a mirror?
I did a lot more of that kind of stuff when I was in high school. I was really into practicing and being a slam poet. After awhile I had some issues with the whole scene, the competition aspect. I found myself starting to write things to get points. And starting to say things that I knew would appeal to more people-not that I didn't believe them, but I was playing things up a little bit. In the slam poetry scene there are certain really aggressive in-your-face macho forms. Anger is obviously a part of my life. But after awhile it felt like I was kind of picking scabs to get at it.
You had a problem with the judgement.
I think people cater to what's going to get points and what's going to move a crowd as opposed to what's in them. That leads to a lot of things, a lot of bias and behind-the-scenes politics. All-male judges will often times knock off women poets because it doesn't speak to them. I don't think it's because they're consciously misogynist jerks but I think it happens. That's something that's happened with this team, which is why there's a women's slam team now. Poetry is supposed to be liberatory.
Can slam poetry be used to combat the problem?
I think it could be. And it has been. It's a medium in which a lot of people find support for what they're saying and it's a way people can feel empowered by putting themselves out there and feeling vulnerable. That's a good aspect of it. One of the positive things that I'm really attracted to is that it's interactive. I can't go to a reading-even if it's my favorite writer-and stand there and just listen to them read. I could do that at home.
Is that the difference between your standard poetry reading and a slam competition?
There are judges, of course. But what I think is more exciting to me is that the audience is encouraged to participate. If somebody says something that audience members agree with you hear cheers and people will egg you on. It breaks down the barrier between participant and spectator. And that's really important, for art in general. If somebody's standing on the stage and someone else is standing in the pit watching them, that's a real drain on the energy in the room.
So what about the Santa Fe team? [competing in the National Poetry Slam Aug. 10-13 in Albuquerque]
This is my first experience on a team or at nationals or any of that stuff. Andy [Sell, Santa Fe team captain] called me up and said 'You should really compete,' and I was like, 'Noooooo.' Then I sort of wanted to but I don't like bars, I don't like being around smoke, it's not my scene. So I kind of dragged my feet going down there hoping that it would be too late to sign up and it wasn't so…I made the team!
Do you get stage fright?
I have a lot of experience being in front of people. I was in a band for a few years and we played a lot and we have literally played shows for the sound guy. We've been booed offstage. I'm not immune to it but it doesn't really effect me that much. I get stage fright when I've written something really personal, when there are people in the audience who know exactly what I'm talking about, but that's just a matter of being vulnerable as opposed to being liked or not liked. That's scary.
Do you go back and rework your pieces based on audience response?
If I was just up there reading my poetry I don't think people would feel comfortable coming up to me and going: 'That part sucks. You should do this.' But that happens at slams all the time. I'm pretty confident in my writing abilities so I take that as constructive criticism. And also the time limit thing; there's a three-minute time limit. If I write something that's a little bit too long then I can't compete with it. So that's a bad thing. But a good thing is that I appreciate the value of editing more as I've gotten older. When I was younger I thought, EVERY LINE IS SACRED, but now I'm like, 'Hmm, let's look at that again.'
Do you think slam's revitalized poetry?
I think people write because they need to write. Just like anything else, people start coming together and building things that are exciting for themselves and there's market value in that. So people come around to take it. And they push out the more radical, personal elements of it and shine it up and package it. But people have written poetry under absolutely ridiculous circumstances. In prison, in concentration camps, in places where you literally have to write your words in blood. That's going to continue.
