Friday’s Mesa National Poetry Slamoff was a disappointment.

I had expected to bear witness to an assortment of pretentious overdramatic weirdos babbling before an audience of like-minded kooks.

The expectation was confirmed when I stumbled across the Web site that included bios of the 11 poets who would be competing. There was Wynter, who thanked "the Viking god Thor’’ for his continued support. Best I can tell, Wynter may be Thor’s only client.

And there was Dave, whose most recent poetry collection was, according to his bio, published at OfficeMax.

And then there were competitors such as The Klute, Bling Bling Rob and Issm Dark, whose names suggest an inherent weirdness that are inviting targets for lampoon.

Finally, there is my longheld belief that there is nothing easier to do than poetry — and nothing harder to do well. It’s been my experience that most people who write poetry have failed to note the distinction.

I had also expected the event to be conducted with decorum and seriousness.

But I was disappointed from the start when the host asked the audience, "OK, who wants to be judges?’’

When one of the would-be volunteers asked, "Can I bring my beer?’’ and was told it was OK, you realized that the notion of solemnity was pretty much out the window.

The competition was held in three rounds, with each poet given three minutes to recite their poems. After two rounds, the field was narrowed to six, with the top three plus an alternate advancing to the Nationals, which will be held later this summer in Albuquerque, N.M.

To my surprise, The Klute was the most clever of the bunch. His first poem, an over-the-top yet hilarious assault on NASCAR and conservatives, included the assertion that "NASCAR is the Republican Party at 155 mph."

In the second round, he hit it out of the park again with his "Love Letter to Pfc. Lynndie England,’’ in which he pined to be "a prisoner in your Abu Ghraib of love.’’ Funny.

In the finals, his rant on the racism found in the aisles of the supermarket (the white characters have first and last names like "Betty Crocker’’ while the black characters are all "Aunt Jemima’’ and "Uncle Ben’’) showed a creativity that was hard to resist.

He finished with the best score, narrowly beating out Corbet Dean, a Phoenix cop whose poetry based on his experiences on the beat was stark and moving. Rounding out the team going to the Nationals was Brent Hefron, whose offerings included a poem about an uncle with MS who went skydiving.

Aimee Doyle will be the alternate. She was one of three women in the competition. Wynter, who made me wish for spring, reached the finals but didn’t crack the top four.

Thanks for nothing, Thor.