loaves of bread on it…sideways.” (She demonstrates by holding an imaginary baking sheet perpendicular to the floor.) She begins muddling raspberries to mix with strawberry vodka, St-Germain liqueur and lemonade, then says over her shoulder, “I exploded a ham once…and remember those cookies that looked like Hawaii?” David, on the other hand, is a natural in the kitchen. You can tell by his contribution to the potluck: a spinach-dill-quinoa salad bursting with the flavors of fresh dill and Parmigiano-Reggiano. And Jodi? Well, Jodi is all about her pie. “Last night I said, ‘What the heck am I gonna make for this thing?’” she says. Then the revelation hit: “THE PIE. This is my one recipe that is my own, that I’ve crafted...this is it! It’s my pie! It’s called the ‘Hot Damn, That’s Alotta Flavor’ pie.” They’ve all generously agreed to write poems today about the food/booze they’ve contributed—in the same manner as they do at their gigs. For those who haven’t yet been so fortunate as to experience the phenomenon, those gigs work like this: The poets sit side-by-side at a long table in front of their vintage typewriters. Guests at the event (book festivals, corporate functions, charity events, etc.) approach the table and ask a poet to write them a poem about a topic of their choosing. And no matter what the subject, recipients are often moved to laughter or tears when they read the finished product. “Sometimes people start crying before they even finish tellMaker Faire. “It came about out of jealousy,” explains Jodi. Many
ing us what they want,” says David. “A lot of the time people are
of her friends were involved in the fair and she suffered from a
crying just because someone has listened to them.” Kari Anne
serious case of what she calls “FOMO” (Fear of Missing Out). So
agrees. “We’re part fortune teller, part therapist, part confessional
she gathered a few of her writer friends together—Sean from her
booth,” she says. “They know they’re never going to see us again,
ComedySportz improv days; David from a writing workshop Jodi
so we get all their deep dark secrets. Then in two minutes, they
was teaching at the time; and Kari Anne, who she knew from the
get that back in an artistic form—a way to interpret the secrets—
AustinMama.com online community (and who also happened to
and then they leave!”
have a collection of vintage typewriters). That day at the fair, they
While the poets get paid by the event organizers, the poems
slammed out poems for almost eight solid hours—it was their
are always free, and they all stress how important that is. Writing
first official gig.
poems for strangers for free is part of the magic; it both takes
David recalls that someone in the crowd called out, “Y’all are like a typewriter rodeo!” and he thought, “We are like a typewrit-
all the pressure off the poets and it removes all barriers between both parties.
er rodeo!” That same day, they bought the domain name—and
As they sit down to their typewriters this morning, Jodi warns
here they are, four years later with tens of thousands of poems
that one of the poets is known for her sexy-sexy food poems. “I
under their ribbons.
have such a hard time,” admits Kari Anne. “I start writing a food
All principal poets are present this morning, save for Sean,
poem, then it always becomes a sexy-sexy poem.” And then they
who is here in spirit (and in person via a short FaceTime conver-
start clacking away, all clatters and whirs and occasional excla-
sation from a bus stop in New York City). He contributed from the
mations—“I spelled that word wrong!”—each intent on the task
“road-eo” his favorite chocolate-chip cookie recipe from when he
at hand, but never stopping for a second. It’s like witnessing three
was 10: Nestlé Toll House, of course. “I’m pretty sure this was the
side-by-side electrical currents flowing from brains to fingertips.
first food item I ever made, way back in elementary school,” he
Suddenly, Kari Anne’s ribbon is all over the table. “That is one
says. “I’ve always loved cookies. So much so that when my mom
quirk about working on machines that were made a long, long
bought me a blank notebook called ‘The Nothing Book’ when I
time ago,” says Jodi. “And no one knows how to fix them anymore.”
was ten, one of the things I wrote in it was this recipe. On the first
After a few minutes, they’ve stopped typing, pulled their po-
two pages, I also wrote a couple original poems I’d written when
ems and begun silently reading them before signing and stamping
I was nine. If only I’d had a typewriter back then.”
them with the official Typewriter Rodeo logo. The poems are then
Self-proclaimed “terrible cook” Kari Anne hasn’t actually
passed around and layers of reactions and conversations begin
cooked anything for the potluck. Instead, she’s brought the in-
tumbling over each other above the now-quiet machines. All of
gredients for a boozy brunch cocktail along with a unicorn-dec-
the poets admit that their unique word-wrangling formula only
orated tumbler for mixing. “I was just looking at my Timehop,”
works if they do it together. “We have to have the cacophony,”
she says, “and it was me holding up a baking sheet with two
says Kari Anne.
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