Megan Falley's Blog, page 123

3 train to the Brooklyn Museum, late night.

3 train to the Brooklyn Museum, late night.

"We have made wind chimes of everything we have left behind: engagement rings, baby’s rattles,..."

“We have made wind chimes of everything we have left behind: engagement rings, baby’s rattles, knocked out teeth delivered by the hands of men who loved us so much we couldn’t smile for anyone else. I will never forget the day Wendy came to me with tools in hand and we drilled holes through everything we once owned, strung it all like popcorn garland and hung them throughout the yard. All that we have left has been turned to chimes— whose music plays loudest when the wind blows with fury, who sound most beautiful right after they’ve been struck.”

-

read the rest at Union Station.

(via misiantaylor)

"I am melting brass knuckles down to tiny trumpets. I am singing this forgiveness song over and over,..."

“I am melting brass knuckles down to tiny trumpets. I am singing this forgiveness song over and over, until I believe it.”

- Megan Falley, After the Witch Hunt (via lavenderhypotenuse)

Contest News!

writebloody:

We will be drawing and announcing our first Amazon review winner tomorrow!

The Contest officially ends on July 10th, so keep emailing in those Amazon Reviews for a chance at some free WB swag.

2 winners will be announced on July 11th

2 winners will be announced on July 18th 

Final winner will be announced on July 25th

To enter contest:

Write an Amazon Review for your favorite Write Bloody book

Email writebloodyhannah@gmail.com with your name and the book you reviewed.

If you read my book and say nice things about it, you can win free awesome shit. PARTY FOR EVERYONE. Go!

soul-caffeine

if anyone has tips on how to stay prolific, creative, happy and fruitful when your day job is an artistic black hole, holler. 

Union Station Magazine Wrote Up A Fantastic Review of My Book

Union Station Magazine Wrote Up A Fantastic Review of My Book:

“If there’s one thing Write Bloody does best, it’s bring voices to the page we might not have encountered otherwise, but often are sure to see again and again. Megan Falley is a masterful storyteller, as skilled at portraying unmistakable tone as she is with the narrative’s unfolding. From just plain dark to the darkly humorous, Falley remains in-your-face without being afraid to let some vulnerability shine through, making those moments cut even deeper. Though the collection is heavily populated by violence—men against women, women against themselves—the voices in these poems are so steeped in an almost uneasy honesty that even when we start to feel a soapbox beneath us, Falley quickly kicks it out from under our feet.”

maybe best poem i've read all year.

KATHERINE WITH THE LAZY EYE. SHORT.
AND NOT A GOOD POET
francine j. harris

This morning, I heard you were found in your McDonald’s uniform.

I heard it while I was visiting a lake town, where empty woodsy highways
turn into waterside drives. I’d forgot

my toothbrush and was brushing with my finger, when a friend
who didn’t know you said he heard it like this: You know Katherine. Short.

with a lazy eye. Poet. Not a very good one. Yeah, well she died. the blue

on that lake fogs off into the horizon like styrofoam. The picnic tables
full of white people. I ask them where the coffee is. They say at Meijer.

I wonder if you thought about getting out of Detroit. When you read at the open mike
you’d point across the street at McDonald’s and told us to come see you.

Katherine with the lazy eye. short and not a good poet, I guess I almost cried.
I don’t know why, because I didn’t like you. This is the first time I
                  remembered your name.

I didn’t like how you followed around a married man. That your poems sucked
and that I figured they were all about the married man.

That sometimes you reminded me of myself, boy crazy. That sometimes
I think people just don’t tell me that I’m kind of, well…slow.

Katherine with the lazy eye, short. and not a good poet.
I didn’t like your lazy eye always looking at me. That you called me

by my name. I didn’t
like you, since the first time I saw you at McDonald’s.

You had a mop. And you were letting some homeless dude
flirt with you. I wondered then, if you thought that was the best

you could do. I wondered then if it was.

Katherine with the lazy eye, short, and not a good poet.
You were too silly to wind up dead in an abandoned building.

I didn’t like you because, what was I supposed to tell you. What.
Don’t let them look at you like that, Katherine. Don’t let them get you alone.

You don’t get to laugh like that, like nothing’s gonna get you. Not everyone
will forgive the slow girl. Katherine

with the fucked up eye, short. Poetry sucked, musta’ knew better. I avoided you
in the hallway. I avoided you in lunch line. I avoided you in the lake.

I avoided you. My lazy eye. Katherine with one hideous eye, shit.
Poetry for boys again, you should have been immune. you were supposed

to be a cartoon. your body was supposed to be as twisted as
it was gonna get. Short. and not a good poet. Katherine

with no eye no more. I avoided you, hated it, when you said my name. I
really want to leave Detroit. Katherine the lazy short.

not a good poet. and shit. Somewhere someone has already asked
what was she like, and a woman has brought out her wallet and said

This is her. This is my beautiful baby.

IF MY WEDDING DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THIS I AM GOING TO KEEP...

IF MY WEDDING DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THIS I AM GOING TO KEEP HAVING WEDDINGS UNTIL IT DOES.

Things To Do: Coney Island.

Things To Do: Coney Island. 

Things To Do: Mister Sunday Outdoor Dance Party, Every Sunday of...

Things To Do: Mister Sunday Outdoor Dance Party, Every Sunday of Summer in Brooklyn.