Lee Lally's These Days (Terence Winch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lee Lally, early 1970s, at home in the house on Emory Place in DC.  Photo (c) by John Gossage.

 

I don’t know whether Lee Lally would have become a poet of significant accomplishment had she lived long enough, but I suspect she would have. I met her when I first arrived in Washington, DC in 1971, the same time I met her husband Michael Lally. We all became good friends. In fact, when Michael and Lee eventually divorced, I was the mutually agreed-upon witness for both of them at the divorce hearing. Lee became a leader in DC's feminist and gay circles for a while, but wound up with a boyfriend towards the end of her short life. In the late ‘70s, Lee and her companion often came down to The Dubliner pub on Capitol Hill when my band was playing there. She loved the music, the beer, the atmosphere, and I was always happy to see her. Lee's enjoyment of life's pleasures sadly ended, however, when she became the unfortunate victim of medical malpractice while undergoing surgery, and wound up in a coma for six years, before finally passing away on March 3rd, 1986, leaving behind two teenage children, Caitlin and Miles. There’s little lingering evidence of her work that I have been able to uncover. The most extensive account of her life and work that I know of appeared in 2007 in Doug Lang’s now largely dormant blog on DC poetry, in a piece that includes a brief remembrance by Doug and a short biographical sketch of Lee by Michael Lally. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lee Lally published only one chapbook, These Days, which came out in 1972 from our poetry collective, Some of Us Press.  Here are two poems from that book:

 

Hurricanes

They name them after women.

You’ve been through a few

you say.

Hurricanes, tornadoes,

tropical storms,

women.

I understand that natural rage.

 

Tropical storm Agnes

swept through tonight

like a real lady.

Greeted rich and poor

with equal vengeance.

The poor will remember her

longer

with less detail.

With wild breath,

unyielding

she spit.

Small rivers run

now

in the streets.

I understand that rage.

 

Tornadoes, tropical storms,

hurricanes,

they name them

after women.

 

__________________________

 

“Never Take More Money to the Bar

Than You’ll Drink up or Gamble Away”

                for my Grandmother who said that

 

Mamie was six foot tall and carried

a hard salami, so hard

she had used it a few times as a billy club.

They were all you needed you told me.

You drank with your friend

and called to giggle at two in the morning

in a way I understood.

                                He left you alone

                                with four children

                                and is not dead yet.

You were 27 one day and 65 the next.

Save electricity, you said, with the one

lightbulb plan.  I never noticed the darkness.

The optometrist told me different and I remember

you squinting at Elizabeth Taylor on magazine covers

in the dusk light at the kitchen window.

You were strong enough to open all jars alone.

                                The daughter died in your arms.

                                The sons turned their paralyses

                                into their energies.

The amusement park trips even when I was

a little too old.  Mostly for the boat ride.

The apple piggy bank, the apple kuchen,

homemade sausage Easter, Christmas.

You worked, even for fun your hands working.

Worked till you died rubbing the bodies

of the ‘wealthy ladies.’

They loved you.

 

I loved you, Anna, of the strong hands,

rubbing backs

until their troubles had been massaged away.

Ours were just beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lee Lally & Terence Winch, Mass Transit poetry reading, early '70s, DC. Photo (c) by Jesse Winch.

 

Comments

[Laura Orem]

Thanks for sharing this, T. These are quite lovely poems.

[michael lally]

Thanks for this Terence. I have some photos that are my favorites of Lee which I'll post to my blog (I can't figure out how to post them here) Lally's Alley: <http://lallysalley.blogspot.com>. Though only 4'11" Lee was a powerful presence in the lives of all who ever encountered her, especially me. And I have no doubt she made her mark as a poet in her short life. THESE DAYS had a wide impact on many poets, many women in general, and particularly on the burgeoning "second wave" of feminism at that time. And just to clarify for those who might read the poems above as commentary on her relationship with me, I raised our son from our separation on and she our daughter, who was in the process of moving in with her brother and me when Lee had the operation that left her in a coma. She was a strong voice for a lot of the feelings so many women were trying to express in those days (the late 1960s and early '70s) and for many she remains a strong voice for the frustrations and righteous anger at the ways in which many women are still treated.

[Dave Beaudouin]

Terence:

A terrific piece and overdue. Thanks for it.

David

[Will Sweeney]

Beautiful poems. Thanks for posting.

[Beth Joselow]

Ah, Lee. I loved to sit in the house on Emory Pl. with her while she hemmed pants for Caitlin. She demonstrated with aplomb that you could be a poet and a mother at the same time.

[Doug Lang]

Well done, Terence. Lee Lally deserves renewed attention. These days now, when the poetry "career" arc is so intense, it is easy for an "old school" poet like Lee to fade into the distant background. Your act of retrieval does justice to Lee and service to the rest of us. I'd love to see an anthology of Some Of Us Press chapbooks, in print or online, or both. Nice work. Thank you.

[[email protected]]

Never read either of those poems, even though I have a copy of the book. Thanks, especially since it's been 25 years since she died, it feels right to have some new perspective on her as an adult mother myself.
Caitlin

[Ed]

Thanks, Terry. I never had a chance to meet her, but I think I see some of her traits in her granddaughter. It helps to know more about my late mother-in-law.

[Joe]

Very grateful for the introduction and opportunity to read Lee's expressions of life.

[Miles]

Terence, thanks for shedding a little light on my mom. Love the lead photo too.

[Miles]

Dad, here is a link to your blog post with a few more pics of Lee:

More Pics of Lee at Lalley's Alley

[Miles]

Doug,

I love the idea of a Some Of Us Press anthology!

[Bobby Miller]

How wonderful to be able to read some of Lee's poetry. She was a force of nature and subtle in her delivery. She was kind and sweet to me at a time when I didn't expect it. She set a standard that few can follow. Ah, 1971 in DC was the doorway to my poetry, I just didn't know it until some 30 years down the road. Thank you Terry xo

[Terence Winch]

Thanks, Booby. Good to have your thoughts added to this post.