May 29, 1913 By Lily Wilson

The stage—

Percussion

Let me show you.

Let

Me

Show

You

How

I

Bleed

Enter the percussion
Precarious prattle
Yes, make bones rattle

The dancers—

Woodwinds

Can you hear?

Let

Me

Show

You

How

I

Push small spires
Through the ground
Welcome spring with solemn sound

The pit—

Oboe

Can you feel it?

Let

Me

Show

You

How

A celestial solo
With fruitful sounds
Grabs at ankles earthward bound

The cheap seats—

Strings

Can you smell it?

Let

Me

Show

You

Scream my name
Composer’s whores
With radical craving adore

The balcony—

Disdain

Can you mute it?

Let

Me

Show

Guttural gasps
Riot Riot
Break and smash precious quiet

Me—

Existence

Can you deny it?

Let

Me

Ruby   red   rouge   crimson   rust

Bleed.

Do you see it now?

Let me bleed.

1 Reply to “May 29, 1913 By Lily Wilson”

  1. I said it before, and I will say it again, Lily-this is one of the best poems I think I have ever read. Your pacing and your timing are wonderful, and I can hear the vibrations of the words on my tongue. Your voice is loud and clear, and I find myself wanting to read more that you have.

    Wonderful job!!!