She starts off with a poem titled “Round Like Bubbles”: “Round like a big fat green birthday balloon kissing the sky,” Gayle Danley begins, then turns her backside to the audience of fourth-, fifth- and sixth-graders at Deerfield Run Elementary School in Laurel and adds, “Why can’t I have a round one like J. Lo?”
The 275 students giggle nervously, immediately certain that this rather loud 43-year-old woman, a nationally renowned slam poet in jeans and a green maternity blouse, isn’t going to be teaching them any kind of poetry they’ve ever heard before. This stuff doesn’t rhyme. And, what? Did she just mention Jennifer Lopez in a poem?
“How come I don’t look like J. Lo?” the poet nearly shouts, plaintively stressing the word “I,” with a Southern accent, as the children titter. “You ever look in the mirror and go, ‘How come I don’t have hair that sings down my spine? How come?’ ” A few lines later, she switches gears: “I don’t need to be Halle Berry, I don’t need to be Alicia Keys, I don’t need to be bald-headed Britney” — they really crack up at that one — “I have it going on, because I have you.”