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| From Trixie Whitley at Rockwood Music Hall (9/27/11) |
dark child
she pounds the stage to splinters
with a booted heel
rips melodies from the strings
beats the piano into submission
all the while apologizing for the violence
singing us onto the rocks
with a voice won from God
in a game of dice (fuck you, Einstein)
her strong blood is on the keys, the frets
a hum from the amp like crazed wasps
I hear Belgium is nice this time of year
but on Allen Street the rain is coming
and there’s no way to escape it
rats are running in the tunnels
we couldn’t be happier
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