Teegarden’s great skill at organizing included bringing together poets from Louisville’s classic garden party variety, the Green River Writers led by Mary O’Dell (“I’m not so much intimidated by it / as I am past it") to the tender punches of Afrolachian poet Jude McPherson (author of love’s taxicab blues revisited, just out from Blacoetry Press), who truly came into his own this night while representing the Black Appalachian experience. Several poets’ bands shredded the dense haze: Frank Messina, lone wolf poet who flew in from NYC on his new CD, Biting the Tongue (Neptune), rocked with El Diablo, yes, backed up by the Devil Hisself! And the Tennessee “alternative bluegrass” of Felix Wiley. Universal local hero and progenitor of the literary renaissance Ron Whitehead brought the crowd to a mad, shooting, hooting crescendo with his sex epic, “Dangerous Places To Have Sex in Kentucky: The Black Mink Ballet.” Night after night we danced on dynamite, as Ai says at such moments.

High point: surprise appearance by the great visual artist Ralph Steadman, cover artist for Hunter S. Thompson, who was in Lexington promoting his new book, Gonzo: The Art (Harcourt Brace) and found at SoUPFest the coolest spot in town to tell tales.

Glitterati in the Crowd: the Sweetheart of Harlan, George Ella Lyon, our favorite writer, her presence very present.

The controversy of the evening was the eternal freedom of the beerguzzlers who pay the rent vs. the tendresse of the poems yearning for earshells to lay eggs in. I’ve been through this a lot recently, as poetry cuts the edge off the local tavern and plunks down art. Two weeks ago, in Bruxelles, at the Beursschouwburg Cafe with the Mouth Almighty “Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Poetry Tour” same same: audience of 300, split into thirds. A third seated up front, all ears for the poem. A third in the back, smoking and drinking at the bar, disinterested in po, would talk through anything until the music gets loud enough to drown conversation, then maybe listen. Middle third grazing both ways. After Wammo let ‘er rip from the tabletop, after I’d taken the mike 50 yards to the back of the room to confront the rude in Bruxelles, Derek Woodgate, editor of Fringecore, suggested I play to those whose lives were cocooning in front; good advice! Gradually, and in Lexington, too, the middle third swayed into poetry’s house.

Among many other SoUPFEST highlights:

• J. Kennedy Mabry frappe-ing Bluegrass Angst with great guitarist Matt Rogers...
  
  
• Paul McDonald, whose reviews of spoken word CDs graced the pages of The Louisville Courier-Journal on the day of SoUPFest, knocking the audience’s socks into wash, only to be metaphorically shot by a starter’s pistol for exceeding dumb time (limit)...
  
  
• Jordan Green (Murkland, Hozomeen Press): “Spit it out like raw catfish”...
  
  
• Kate Teegarden, in Uma wig: “Sometimes I pretend I’m your mistress”...
  
  
• 5-piece fusion band backing Michael Campbell, also in wig (his, Cher’s): “65 years old and they make her pee in a cup / Don’t want no doped-up senior citizens / Mopping the floors in mensware, do we?”...
  
  
• W. Loran Smith (Night Train, Plinth Books), backed up by Dan O’Brien on sax: “the sun is going down / and the waves are lapping gently over the dog food cans”...
  
  
• The Last Chances, rocking with poets Joseph Bialek (new chapbook! I need one!) and Michael Crossley...
  
  
• Bum rushing the stage, Ellen Hager stopped time altogether with her Poem, “New Rebel Yell.”

Great goodnights to Gina and Robert who own and book the club -- satisfied that poetry can hold its own, be back soon. Afterparty at Continental -- Messina and Wiley in pool at 3 am.

Bob Holman

*Lafayette High School in Lexington has one of the country’s best poetry programs, directed by Carole Johnston, who was en la casa. Carole runs an organization called Reach Out Poetry Productions in Lexington -- poets travelin’ through should contact her at morganabag@aol.com.