West of Wonderland

There's an empty glass of wine

Next door

To a nearly empty 

Tequila on the rocks

A room full of expectation 

Sitting and sipping 

She tumbles onto the stage

A wild whirl of hair and languid limbs

The musicians rock and sway

The air seems electric 

Then she sings

And your mouth hangs open

It’s polished

And powerful

And perfect

She could sing the phone book

But then it wouldn’t be the phone book anymore

It would be the heartbreakingly beautiful names of sentient souls

Followed by the best way to reach them

She sings the way that you would sing

If you could sing like that

Powerful chest ringing notes

Dancing around the edge 

Of a lonely restraint 

The Dietrich suit

The girlish charm

A Cheshire grin

On a sailors mouth

Vulnerable and smooth

With a cracking bite

Rich like the wine

Clear and fiery 

Like it’s neighbor

Once you drink it down

You’re drawn

Drawn and tethered 

By the smokey earth crumbling siren of her voice

She just has it

That curious something

Floating in a sea of tears

At the end of a long fall

A knowing Alice

Who's had her heart broken

But still out crazies

The Hatter

At his own party

While the caterpillar 

Breaks out the good weed

The White Rabbit

Was surely chasing her

And maybe that's where you go 

When you hear her sing

To Wonderland

To the earnest moments of your childhood

The translucent emotion of your coming of age

To a place where upside down

Is right side up

To the understanding 

That a voice like that

Means there must be a God

And maybe

On the Seventh Day

He wasn’t resting