Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

there has to be a better way to do this
scrounging                    around at 3:15
          until
          the dam's found
   you ruin my concentration
      silly
unlock the spare
just inside the compartment
   as you step in …

"He's lying," I said.
"He's always lying," said someone else.

oh, the pressure!
the dam is about to burst!
a free thinking poetry mind can't

ahhh, there's something to write
          home about!

so the cat's got it made.
   a free door open most of the day,
      and an open faucet all night.

ran into Dayvid Figler tonight
at the Slam.
he's been doing it for years—
this is the first time
Team Las Vegas
(as they're called)
made it to the Nationals.
he's gone every year
for the past five years
and the best he's done is
21^st place.

the cat and I
involved in a periodic staredown.
the door's open, but he waits
outside
for me to come and
turn on the bathtub faucet.
he's not getting his way tonight.
nosiree,
he's going to bed without
   getting his paws wet.
and I should go to bed
   before barfing up
   the remainder of the beers
      I had beers to keep me
      alive   interested
in time with the crap
   I heard onstage tonight …
*****
my payment as judge has been
minimal, of course.

but couldn't there be an S
          in there?
          a "12 sideapple" instead?