Cinema Strange Needlefeet
One
-In a house of sticks sat a marchioness and two of her
maids. They went there Sundays.
-Isolde had to be a fancy lady. She had a manor
specially built for tea.
-Polly was a doll, Wendy a felt horse. They sipped with
their pinkies up, of course.
-Isolde’s friends would say, in a candid way, that her
society was improving, most days.
Chorus One
-Isolde in her hidden house, off in a copse while
mother slept. Father gone in a pinstriped suit and a
governess hanging clothes, singing Irish.
-Isolde had a dirty cheek; blackish loam smeared on
pretty white birch bark and because of the low light,
stinging, not seeing, ‘twas a splinter buried...
Two
-In the dappled shade, spinney leaves will fade. They
hid behind an old wicker chair-seat front gate.
-She must drift outside; dainty, lilting strides, and
by fairy craft give her teahouse eyes.
Bridge
-Isolde wants window light! She dislikes parasites!
Open the walls and oh, my dear, well that smells
lovely!
-But do you hear the sound of a dead and wood bone
cracking? There’s a foot upon the ground without and
the birds have left off laughing!
-Stay within thy castle and mute thy ladies’ thread and
cotton tongues. Their songs, if sung, would bring the
broken stick foot hither!
-Another step draws near! Thy ladies shake with fear!
Don’t make a sound! Tendrils run along the ground,
they’re searching, searching!
-Is it alive or dead? Does the footfall have a head? Is
it a face with eyes, and has it spied Isolde small and
pale with dread?
-And then sepulchral breath slips past teeth all wrong
from death. That crooked air won’t linger there, it
drips and drops on Isolde’s hair…
Chorus Two
-Isolde tumbles out and away, gone from the woods and
into the daylight. She will sip her tea with the
governess and listen to mother sleeping!
-Isolde doesn’t need a special secret wooded teatime
retreat! There’s nothing restful about a parlor rank
with rot and loud with needlefeet!
