Today, April 17, 2020 is the day that Fiona Apple released her first album in eight years. It’s called “Fetch the Bolt Cutters.” Already, much has been said about it. Happy Googling.

I’ve listened to it five times so far.

Then I spent six minutes banging out this poem.

THIS IS MY ALBUM REVIEW.

I fetched my headphones for fetch the bolt cutters
Then I ran into each song like they were houses on fire
Lyrics are salty, fire-breathing IEDs
The piano a  whirling dervish
A barking dog makes perfect sense
Name-dropping Hurricane Gloria
Kitchen utensils, maybe, clanging
Jackhammer drums
That voice, lying in wait, stalking its prey
Lunges with precision, tearing flesh from bone
Up from the well, shot from a crossbow
A spilled gallon of angsty warm blue
Words float in a state of zero gravity
Words stab in a crime of passion
Words claw their way out
Words bleed
Words cry
Words punch
Words heal
She’s back
Hey, Fiona.

Ponti Out

XX