The Life and Times of Ann Arbor Poet Extraordinaire, Larry Francis

by Ryan M. Place

Seeing Francis perform live is an electrifying experience. Having a greater range of thought, feeling, and consciousness than most, Francis is a skilled wordsmith who generates positive vibes.

iSPY: “What would you say your distinguishing trait is, if you have one?”

Francis: “Mirth.”

iSPY: “What demands top priority for you?”

Francis: “Whimsy.”

When I caught up with Larry Francis, I found him drinking Red Snapper out of a one liter dimpled glass mug, brimming with frosty ale at the Corner Brewery in Ypsilanti, relaxed and smiling. Opinions on Larry Francis are strong, yet varied and range from crazed to daft, dashing to zenmad. Whatever you want to label him as, Francis occupies a very unique niche in the poetry world and local arts community.

Francis is an underappreciated poet whose quick wit, humor and extremely talented writing have gone too long dazzling people without being properly acknowledged in print. However, not only is Francis a great poet, he’s also a great conservationist who can get along with most people, and an inspiring teacher. He used to run the Ann Arbor Poetry Slam and currently teaches writing, Shakespeare, poetry and Tao in Thought at PCEP in Canton.

Seeing Francis perform live is an electrifying experience. Having a greater range of thought, feeling, and consciousness than most, Francis is a skilled wordsmith who generates positive vibes. He saunters on, babbling archaic inflections to frenzied applause—things along the line of: “Harsh dissolve into the eternal. No sluggish myocardial infarction, just burst the fuse.”

Born in 1951, Francis was a product of the Roman Catholic school system on Detroit’s Eastside. He attended St. Matthews until 1965, then, in 1969, graduated from Bishop Gallagher High School. He then went to the University of Michigan from 1969 to 1973, before becoming a high school teacher in 1974, at age twenty three, when he found out you could smoke cigarettes inside the classroom and teach The Hobbit while doing so. When he discovered teachers got paid more if they had a master’s degree, he went back to U of M and earned his master’s by 1978.

A poet since the late sixties, Francis started writing poems, “singles,” that would perform well with the onset of slam poetry around 1989. Some of these singles include: Calling All Buddhas, The Pursuit of Happiness (Requires Careful Background Inspection), The Tao of Plastic, Please Tread on Me, Great Gears with Burrs, The Lemon of Clumsy, Why I Bought My Bullhorn, etc., and, when performed live, each showcases Francis’ crisp and elegant diction and ample voice tone while effecting contagious audience laughter.

Francis can be summed up as a truly fascinating individual whose unique personality shines through in his poetry. He is not a commercial poet, by any stretch of the imagination. He is not mainstream compatible, and there are no numbered footnotes in his work. He is best known for condensed poems laced with superior firepower, all which reflect his distinctive style. However, you have to see Mr. Francis perform live them to fully experience the intensity.