Megan Falley once lived in New Zealand for six months. Her work has been published by Danse Macabre, The Legendary, and PANK, but you can usually find her subjecting her art to numerical judgment at poetry slams in NYC. She currently bags groceries and works as the “floral section leader” at a trendy supermarket, and is actively looking to create a synonym for the word “dream.”
I’d been thinking about leaving. I’d been thinking how there’s something about out here. Before long it’s a new January and you’re hungover with a heartache for a man you won’t see for several years until he pops up on that very popular, critically-acclaimed sitcom with that actress you learned to like, then hate, then feign indifference abou
The leak in your breathing/ tube makes a cartoon squeak./ It takes two nurses, silent/ as nuns, to place you/ in my arms...
If I have already/ gone insane/ but I want to get/ crazier yet,/ what’s my move?/ Go outsane?
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