Poems can get lost in the theater of the event, Powers says. "Gesticulation becomes more forced, more plastic. You get into a posture, you're preoccupied with stimulation."

A reporter for The Boston Globe, Smith went head-on with Powers on the front page of the paper's Sunday Arts section two weeks ago. Smith said that Powers "shies away from more innovative and experimental offerings."

Powers is furious, and is fighting back. "It's innuendo at the expense of people who have been on the poetry circuit for years," he says. "Rather than being scared of innovation, we supported the Slams."

He's right--the first four Boston Slams were hosted by Powers and Stone Soup. "This 'new voice' didn't arrive from Chicago," he says. "Promotion for the Slam says `The energy is back.' Where was it all the other time?"

Smith savors the controversy. "We're happy affecting people, whether positively or negatively." She is surprised, though, at the way the fight is taking shape. "It might be the New England mentality," she says. Smith says that lots of people have already told her to go back to Chicago.

Powers cites the "exaggerated outrage, chutzpah, in-your-face" style of many slammers. He might be talking about McIntyre, whose performances involve lots of shouting and stomping. McIntyre's poem in the semi-finals turns out to be a tale of misery from Frankenstein's monster. The crowd is mesmerized. He stops, and leaves the stage.

"That's Ryc McIntyre," shouts Brown, stretching out the words like a boxing referee. The spell breaks. The audience cheers. Judges scribble their decisions.

One judge gets particularly loud boos from the audience, especially from fans of McIntyre. Catherine Hogan, sitting in the corner of the room, raises her cards with a hey-you-asked-for-it expression on her face. When McIntyre ultimately takes the Slam from Tweney and Weidershein, she's clearly disappointed.

Her post-bout analysis: "[McIntyre] relied on stock pop phraseology. It was mostly theatrical. The audience I guess was taken in by that."

As for Tweney, who nearly won the slam but lost major subtlety points on his wife-beating poem, Hogan says that he "has a future. Definitely."