Emma Lew

Detail for a Lily Scheme

When a woman gets married it is because she is hungry, thirsty or naked.

Take her straight from the fields and threshing floors.

Give her anything, so long as it’s gold,

and a little bunch of those white flowers they sell on street corners.

Straight out of the fields and threshing floors,

she comes carrying the bloom of youth, and the threat,

and a little bunch of those white flowers they sell on street corners.

Her silence means consent.

Carrying with her the bloom of youth, and the threat,

she simmers like a bone in soup,

so that all you can hold against her is her silence.

It’s autumn already. Can the forest burn?

She simmers like a bone in soup,

growing strong on the very pity she feels for herself.

It’s autumn already. Can the forest burn?

But not even that would soften her hatred.

She grows strong on the very pity she feels for herself.

Give her anything, so long as it’s gold,

though none of it will soften her hatred.

When a woman gets married it is because she is hungry, thirsty or naked.

Trouble with Elation

Adultery rips a family apart as much as poverty

Saddest circus I ever saw

That’s a lot of hatred from a mother

Nothing I’d care to discuss right now

Late teens, indicating a propensity

Started hanging round morgues so I could be near the stillness of death

It was like an acid eating into me

The sun, the silence, the nothingness

Immersed myself in the Bible when I was alone, too

In front of the love seat, electrified

No sexual act ever commenced, instead I trashed the room

I know that nobody ever changed history, but I had to try

There’s a lot of mystery in the world

Stuff I never read in languages I don’t speak

It takes so long to get from nowhere to nowhere

You’re beautiful. What’s the emergency?

I just want to handcuff somebody

Just want to see if property feels pain

It’s going to end in eternity, and if there is no eternity

Maybe someday, but not today

Fragile Pranks

I left anyway, in spirit

I dreamed I was living my own life

my mind was on exits, I tried to buy the truth

some nights until I ran out of dark

I dreamed I was living my own life

started strange, went familiar

some nights until I ran out of dark

falling into the depths of whatever

started strange, went familiar

getting paid for my insane translations

falling into the depths of whatever

any state of rapture available

getting paid for my insane translations

dissolving myself in the arms of third parties
any state of rapture available

I woke up in the camp of the assassins

dissolving myself in the arms of third parties

riddled with every kind of abandonment

I woke up in the camp of the assassins

for no reason, just a tragic error

riddled with every kind of abandonment

that was when I felt closest to god

for no reason, just a tragic error

the deal fell through but the point was made

that was when I felt closest to god

my mind was on exits, I tried to buy the truth

the deal fell through but the point was made

I left anyway, in spirit

Crow College

Drive one nail out with another,

that’s our only hope.

We can’t live anymore like birds on a branch,

because the murderous past never stops,

not even at night.

Every day we expect to be accused of unspeakable things and turned adrift.

Do you remember

when Ernesto disappeared

in a puff of smoke

as he was bringing the cows in from the meadows?

And when the girl Esmarelda

fell in love with the son of a man

and they faced certain death

because they were incapable of creating anything,

so they withdrew again into images more beautiful than anything?

All of us, at one time or another,

have travelled in the company of smugglers,

or pilfered whole sacks of grain.

Likewise, the lady who had to grit her teeth

and shake the columns of the white hall.

She could smell the fresh lumber

but the path led nowhere.

Can you imagine her singing a love song?

But it’s true! it’s true!