If you missed the live-stream of the Transatlantic Poetry Series, you can watch it here: http://www.transatlanticpoetry.com/readings/41-mary-o’malley-and-leah-umansky/
If you are interested in tuning in to the livestream Transatlantic Poetry Reading tomorrow there is more info here: http://www.transatlanticpoetry.com/readings/41-mary-o’malley-and-leah-umansky/
I’ve just heard that my new full-length manuscript, The Barbarous Century is a finalist for the Sexton Prize at Eyewear Publishing. I am SO honored and excited
An interview with “speaking of marvels” for STRAIGHT AWAY THE EMPTIED WORLD
“The speaker is so dissatisfied with life that she looks outside of her own society, even outside of her own planet.”
Straight Away the Emptied World (Kattywompus Press, 2016)
What are some of your favorite chapbooks?
What’s your chapbook about?
My chapbook is about the near-future. It’s steeped in feminism and sci-fi/ fantasy, but also is very much about hope. It’s a collection of poems that are about a female speaker fighting the good fight in a world long lost.
If you have written more than one chapbook, could you describe each of them in chronological order?
This is my third book of poems, and my second chapbook. My first chapbook is the Mad Men inspiredDon Dreams and I Dreams
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I created a “Book Notes” for Largehearted Boy for my new dystopian poetry chapbook, STRAIGHT AWAY THE EMPTIED WORLD. Read it and listen to the playlist !
Posted in national poetry month, press, publications, straight away the emptied world, Uncategorized | Tagged book notes, books, dystopia, largehearted boy, music, playlist, poetry | Leave a Comment »
Left inside the mound, I accompanied him.
First it was silver, then sand.
There was a shape of a great melodrama
And clue by clue, I smelled the change in the air
“Grace is set in stages,” he said, “I won’t burden you with the list.”
“But what we love will be forgotten, if we don’t follow discovery.”
This is not the start of love. It is a dream in the long line of a horse,
The wide bow of a ship, or the ribcage of the biggest heart.
The silver chipped away and a thrill rose in a dark-light.
The doubt then was a fat flower blooming
I said, “More. More. MORE!”
Only that deafening smell of the overripe
Could wake me from that blast. That pomp.