Knoxville Boy

Oh Willie dear don’t kill me here

I’m unprepared to die

“Knoxville Girl,” Appalachian murder ballad

Son, I said, what have you done?

He came in late, my boy, his shirt front

and britches muddy and stained.

How come that blood on your shirt sleeve?

I put the light on to see his face,

our shadows stretched up the stairwell

wall, our silhouettes as slow as night.

He told me to go back to bed,

says, Mother, I’ve just got

one of those bad headaches

that makes my nose bleed. Says fetch

me some aspirin and a cold wash

rag. Something about the way

he smelled put me in mind

of that dark-eyed girl he’s been

seeing. One of those Happy Holler

girls works over at the Standard

Knitting Mills, had a little girl, not

a soul knows who its daddy was,

and when my boy started

going with that girl, seems

like a pall covered his face, his eyes

dull as the Tennessee River. Next

thing I knew, the sheriff beat

on the door and wanted in, says

there’s been a killing on the river

bank. I looked up the stairs

to my fair boy, Oh Willie

dear what have we done?

My son come tell it to me.