Love Letter 6/9/11

D File

If you dig the D Note then please vote for us in Intuit's "Love A Local Business" contest. Easy to do and it could be a big help to us. Thanks in advance!

Congrats to Paige Becker for winning the D Note dessert contest. Her entry was: 'Cinnamon Sugar crust. Chocolate sauce topped with lots of strawberry slices. Name it "Strawberry Fields Forever"!' Our chef and GM chose the winner. We'll feature that dessert pie for the next week. It was a close contest as there were some great entries. Check out our Facebook page to see some of the others.

This Friday we have a great little bluegrass band called The Hummin'birds playing the free Friday afternoon concert at 5pm. Check out the crazy cool poster they did for the show here. Then we switch to jugband music with Roscoe's Dusty Bottle Boxcar Band feat. Bret Sloan at 7pm. Followed by the smooth pop of The Ash Ganley Band at 8pm. $5.

Friday at 9:30p we have hard-core latin dance w/ 9 piece band Kaoba and DJ Juanito. $10/$5 ladies. Bachata, Cumbia, Reggaeton. Come dance and help us get this series off the ground.

Saturday night we have the return of Blues Torch at 7pm. These guys packed the house last time and put on a great show. Come dancing. $5.

Saturday at 9pm we have 3 indie bands, all with very cool names, Lounge Eater, Postal Holiday and Cougar Pants. $5.

Next Tues we have a benefit for a super cool new org called Communified Sounds that sends musicians out to hospitals to play for the sick. Music really does have the power to heal and so we are very psyched about this show. They pulled together 3 fantastic bands too, The Gypsy Lumberjacks, Rogue Sound and Jet Edison. Stellar. $10 suggested donation.

Next week we have the long awaited return of Laughing Hands, plus Johnny Barber and The Living Deads and more. Check out www.dnote.us for more details.

Out,

D Rank

Extra Credit: Here's a poem by a mysterious poet named Truck Darling. Enjoy.

I SHALL NOT BE PUT TO SHAME

St. Matthew 26: 6-13 & Isaiah 50: 4-7



The tenant next door: a prince of the night

with diamond vocals. I have trouble chewing

with grace, need a voluptuous rescue dog

to stay warm so I can keep working off



the grid in mascara. The violent must need

to put their pain somewhere? I had his head

handed to me & I know what to do with it. I

parade the length of 9th Ave. in Converse



& pearls. People yell at me & I find myself

on planes, passed out on dirt, a lone ascetic

in noon pajamas. A potpourri of hockey feet

& quicksand in my cot. When things get crazy,



my impulse is to go radical, crack up during

a Lifetime cameo. My resolve wishes to cave

like an avalanche, but I’ve set my face like flint,

like Rushmore. I know I shall not be put to shame.



I shall not be locked away in fear with this deer

musk, a wet leather jacket, ginger ale. The saddest

shepherd’s pie attracts me to myself. The trust we

love maybe attracts us to ourselves. It’s arrogance



to think I am breathing without a machine. At least

the Blood & Beer Days are over on my soaked earth.

I’d awfully like to drift back into a world of fireflies,

single~pump gas stations, overalls & 1st century



Palestinian sunbeams shooting through my dirty hair

before everything became so… but Love detonates

softly in my present. You are my regal tripwire, it is

good to keep stumbling like this I’m thinking?