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The Bee, performing at WoWPS 2023 in Baltimore, MD.
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Of a Wallace Stevens wrote his poems to The beat his shoes would make so I was Trying to do that but I can't walk Straight one foot before the other but Tick and stutter here a man yell your [ __ ] I say leave me the [ __ ] [ __ ] alone Now my red yellow teeth skin and gums Have shown weakness me I'll be Slaughtered him fed I pray don't let This be the end while you still Stuttering say that [ __ ] again I plead With powers I do not believe a vulture The shadow circles the half dead Half-spoiled mean easy to kill means Easy to eat please cease My last thought was I wish I was the Poet I wish that this was just a poem And I wrote it because to call me a poet Is Called me a god This was my poem I would have ended just Me standing alone once a man told me he Fantasizes about saving the world I said I lie of awake at night trying to Save myself as a little girl This was my poem I would have been Brutal made every woman's last fantasy Fruitful not a stutter nor a fall no at His cat call I would skin him from the Eyes if this was my poem you'd hear only His cries make his windpipe mine I would Wear his body the armors of men which
Keep them alive evil men every Femme you Have ever known has dreamed of blooming In your bones than making it safely home I want that kind of faith in my figure To taking up space shouting like pulling A trigger give me that power that hatred That Roar you want my body I want yours more I want that kind of Faith but the Lord Lay me down in a man's world built like A girl with pains that cannot be cured So I play God in my verses create a World without rape whistles and purses Men who hear my Subs Not Crying Wolf but My morning wound men who made from my Pen and not me from their rib Won't touch her and hit so soon he Yelled I'll kill you [ __ ] I seized I Fell to the floor if this was my poem if This was my poem if this was my poem but It's not me What I need is not really clear if all Of this Fear Can I actually ever heal I Tried to to disappear I'm shattered Already He can't take what's not there but but I Am still escaping he has taken Everything I can't tell if this is my Body still breathing or just the scene Of a crime here I am reading a poem of Mine written to the beat of my stutter Stumbled on the street yet It seems that this is still about him And not about me
[Music] Thank you [Music] That was the beat
