It is nearly 100 degrees outside, and Eirik Ott arrives at our meeting on a bike, an old-school banana seat bike with a striking resemblance to Pee-wee Herman's.

Wearing cargo shorts and a black T-shirt that reads "She never loved you," he is sweating bullets.

"I have a car," he says as he wipes his forehead and scooches into the booth at the restaurant. "But I just like to ride my bike sometimes. It's fun."

Ott, better known as Big Poppa E, is one of the most popular poets on the national poetry slam circuit. Tonight, he is scheduled to make his second appearance on HBO's "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry," which features poets from across the United States and is hosted by Mos Def, one of hip-hop's most culturally conscious rappers.

Ott performed his most famous poem, "Wussy Boy," on the show in 2002. That performance must have resonated with Mos Def, because at the most recent taping "he recognized me. . . and called out my name and gave me dap, so that was really cool," says Ott.

"Mos Def was most definitely cool and composed. . . You could tell he was a star, but he exuded humility and had that aura about him that intensely creative people have," says Ott, who also had a 10-minute conversation with hip-hop artist Common, who was so mellow, Ott didn't even realize who he was until later.

Back at the restaurant, one thing is clear right away about Ott: Slam is his passion.

"Slam is a venue for the expression of the human condition, a cultural force that doesn't care about your race, gender or socioeconomic background.

"It's a tool for empowering people to express themselves. I love it because it's given me the freedom to know myself and others. Slam is the most diverse community I've ever seen."

All seriousness aside, he is one of those naturally funny people with endless stories about love, road adventures and having good karma, which he tells with nearly overwhelming enthusiasm and animation.

Ott, 37, a self-proclaimed "big kid," says his cats, Aretha and Thelonious, are his children. He grew up in Bakersville, Calif., "a horrible place to live," but has lived in Austin for three years. He was a member of the 2002 Austin Poetry Slam team and these days plays music as DJ Hot Wings and performs Wednesday nights at the weekly slam at Ego's.

Ott's first DVD, "Couches Across America," which will be released Wednesday, highlights his best and most diverse work. He talked to us about the importance of following your heart, the Navy, influences, his love life — he has been with his girlfriend for five months — and how he, a white guy who stands 5 feet 4 inches, got the name Big Poppa E.

How did you get started in slam?

I feel like the duckbilled platypus: I have no idea how I got here (laughing). It wasn't something I planned.

See, up until 1992, I didn't like the way my life was. I was sad and lonely and had no friends. I was really shy.

In college, I worked for the student newspaper, in part because a girl I liked worked on staff, too. I never asked her out or told her how I felt.

One day, she told me that she was moving out of state and that she really liked me. Of course, this took me completely by surprise. At that time, I never had the courage to follow my heart.

Not anymore. Don't get me wrong. I don't go around accosting people. I just live by this rule: I'd rather regret something I did than never having done it.

And that's what happened with poetry. I just did it. I was reborn in January 1992 at my first poetry reading at Matches Coffeehouse in Bakersville.

What was your first time at the mike like?

Thankfully, it was great. My work always has been more comedically based, so everyone was laughing.

Who are some of your influences?

Richard Pryor is my main influence in the comedy aspect. He was very socially conscious and cutting edge. I rank him with Muhammad Ali as far as breaking down stereotypes.

My other main influence is Henry Rollins — frontman of the 1980s punk band Black Flag — who later got into spoken word. I used to listen to him when I was in the Navy, based in Iraq during the Gulf War. (The Navy is a family affliction: We all hate our fathers, tell them "(expletive) you!" and go off to the military to "think for ourselves." Isn't that ironic?)

So I used to listen to Rollins' funny, poignant stories which had a poetic feel. They resonated so deeply, but yet you laughed because of the pain inside.

And so, being alone in the Navy, a misogynistic homophobic (culture), Rollins inspired me to start expressing myself in a deeper manner. I had a girlfriend back home, so I wrote her a poem. At that time, I thought it was the (expletive). But it was so bad (laughing).

A lot of your poems are about girlfriends and the pros and cons of relationships. Why?

I'm a romantic. Girls and my fear of death are the two greatest motivating factors of my life.

Why do you think you've been so successful as a touring artist?

My ability to work the crowd. I have a good feeling for improv and working my personality into the set. That's the difference between a really good performer and a poet.

What advice can you give to people who might want to pursue this?

It takes a special personality to deal with the rigors of doing this. If you get your expectations really high, you inevitably end up upset and (frustrated) because something didn't go according to plan — and things rarely go according to plan. So, when you put the bar up really high, you set yourself up for failure. I set the bar on the ground when I go on tour (laughing.) So, when you go into a show with no expectations, you just go out and have a blast.

How important is Mike Henry to the Austin slam scene?

I'm so glad you asked about him. He has had immeasurable impact. He literally has devoted and sacrificed his life to the slam community, which would not be here it it weren't for him. He's a tireless leader.

And, he is the definition of a good slam host, the ultimate ringmaster. He focuses the attention on the elephants (the poets) and never makes it the "Mike Henry Show," which he could, because he's a great poet. He is one of those rare people who writes a beautiful poem and performs it powerfully.

How did you get the Big Poppa E moniker?

A couple years after (late rap great Notorious B.I.G., aka Big Poppa or Biggie Smalls) got shot (and died), I was at the mike, and someone in the audience yelled out in a low voice, "Big Poppa E," and it stuck.

But you're not a hip-hop poet. How did you feel about the name early on?

I've incorporated a lot of elements of hip-hop into my work, in pieces such as "Jesus Mosh Pit," which has a lot of braggadocio and this larger-than-life feel.

So the name Big Poppa E became associated with this big boisterous person. At first, it was a double-edged sword, because that's not me at all. But I grew to like the juxtaposition between me and Biggie. People hear my name and think I'm this big black guy — until they see me (laughing).

gcowles@statesman.com; 445-3835