We could never equal Buchenwald.
In those days before the war,
Everyone felt what happened onstage was impossible.
Our nightmares of sadism and perversion
Played out under angels at watch over the orchestra,
Our fantasies fulfilled in the private rental boxes
Once occupied by supplicating daughters of Christ—
We, aroused by the unthinkable,
Crimes in the madhouse
The laboratory of hallucinations
The torture garden and guillotine
The insane street urchins, prostitutes and apaches.
Lilly Laudanum became the most assassinated women in the world,
After she kissed the leper.
Shot with a rifle, raped, hanged, quartered,
Burned, cut with surgical tools, poisoned,
Devoured by a puma—
Strangled by her own perfectly matched pearls.
She is all of us, wandering blind
In this world afraid of the foreign, the unknown.
We could never imagine it possible.
Now we know these things,
Are possible in reality.