MY PARENTS NAMED ME MELISSA.
I NAMED MYSELF SO SAD TODAY.
SO SAD TODAY IS ME AND SHE IS NOT ME.
I CREATED SO SAD TODAY, BECAUSE I DID NOT KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO TO BE OKAY.
SHE WAS BORN OUT OF AN EMOTIONAL, SPIRITUAL AND PSYCHIC DARKNESS.
SHE REFLECTS MY DESIRE TO CONNECT WITH OTHERS IN AN ESSENTIAL WAY, UNDERNEATH THE SOCIAL, PROFESSIONAL AND CULTURAL MASKS I FEEL I MUST WEAR IN THE WORLD SO AS TO BE PERCEIVED AS OKAY.
AND YET, LIKE ALL INTERNET PERSONAE, SHE TOO IS A MASK.
I LOVE HER.
HERE IS SO SAD TODAY.
HERE IS THE COLUMN I WRITE AT VICE AS SO SAD TODAY.
HERE IS AN ARTICLE IN ROLLING STONE ABOUT MY COMING OUT AS SO SAD TODAY, AND THE BOOK OF PERSONAL ESSAYS THAT WILL BE PUBLISHED BY GRAND CENTRAL / HACHETTE IN MARCH 2016.
Over a series of insomniac nights, I wrote a collection of poems inspired by the Oneohtrix Point Never album R Plus Seven. For every track on the album, there is a poem. These aren’t lyrics. Simply, they are words that translate the feels I encountered in experiencing each track. Words are all I have. As much as I am often scared of my feels in waking life, I love and embrace them in poetrylife. You might call the process audio ekphrasis.
The collection is now this week’s first look at Rhizome / The New Museum. What this means is the collection has taken over the Rhizome.org homepage for the week via a New Museum series. (i think?)
The collection will live permanently on NewHive, which is the tool I used to assemble the poems so that each text has the corresponding audio embedded.
Thanks to curator Harry Burke.
I have 3 poems in the new issue of Tin House (but you have to buy it to read them) (but I still thought it was worth saying, because it’s Tin House) (have infiltrated the system).
Weird Sister interviewed me about being a witch (they thought they were interviewing me about being a feminist).
One of my poems abt a hot boy at a wedding w a tongue piercing / suicidal ideation will be in a teen anthology from Viking in 2015 and they have a Tumblr interviewing all of the poets in that anthology. Here is my interview.
I’m a Rhizome First Look poet this month. Will update when the piece is live March 30.
I can hold back till I’m dead.
Then I get to hump the light.
I will be so good at dead.
No grey room to frighten me.
Only the end of all the stale colors.
Everything become all the colors.
Watch me fucking the light.
Me licking light from my fingers.
Me with the light in my ass.
Me saying more and the light saying yes.
Me finding out what I always knew.
Which is what I know now but cannot remember.
I’m a Virgo with a Scorpio moon and Sag rising.
SCARECRONE was the July book at Emily Books, so if you want it as an ebook you can get it there.
Laia Garcia interviewed me at Emily Books about anxiety, the problem of reality, teenhood…
Monica McClure’s dope preface to the ebook was featured at The Poetry Foundation blog.
Poem from The Iowa Review and SCARECRONE is up at The Iowa Review site.
Did an interview with Splitsider about existential tweeting.
Wrote about buying into an endless Summer of youth (I want it!) at Lemonhound.
I don’t want to be anything not even a poet, just trembles.
The way you get a poet to love you is be a ghost.
One ghost did this for me.
I rotted so hard in my wetness that I turned into a ghost myself.
But I remained a poet at heart.
That was my big mistake.
Oh god of ghosts and corporeal forms.
Help me torch my heart.
New poem at PEN called LAST SEXT.
New poem at Typo called LUNAR WIDOW.
New poem in the new issue of The Iowa Review w/ a cracked mirror on the cover, but it’s not online. #legit
Three new poems in first issue of Glittermob.
Guillaume Morissette wrote deep into SCARECRONE + Spencer Madsen’s You Can Make Anything Sad at On Metatron. #canada
Why did you come to the light?
Because I was hurt.
How did you get hurt?
Chasing another light.
In what way did the light hurt you?
It left me.
How did it leave you?
It was attached to a body.
Will this light hurt you?
No it is so bright.
Was the other light bright?
What is different about this light?
This light is real.
Was the other light fake?
Shane Jones interviewed me about my relationship w food at The Believer and I was honest.
Dazed says I’m a literary rebel.
Cool lil review of Scarecrone at Paper by Gabby Bess.
New poem + giant pic of my mug at Flavorwire.
Interview about…poetry at Entropy.
Cool lil review of Scarecrone at Bookish.
Shoutout to my twitter at Shelf Awareness.
How much longer will you write about love?
Till it’s over.
This is not really love you know that.
I know nothing.
Fill your mind with flowers instead of boys.
Boys are flowers.
Let’s not be drugs for each other let’s be deeper.
There is no such thing as rescue.
There is no such thing as rescue.
On the other side of bodies is what?
Cease fighting everyone and everything.
Die in me.
Publishers Weekly reviewed Scarecrone & ttly got it
Blake Butler gave Scarecrone witch luv at VICE
Maureen Thorson reviewed Scarecrone at Open Letters Monthly & now I scare myself
Is anybody reading this?
Jason Diamond wrote some cool shit about my twitter at Flavorwire
Mashable wrote some other cool shit about my twitter #666
Adam Robinson told the story of Scarecrone in a rad way that includes our rare, neverbeforeseen gchats
Edward Mullany interviewed me about sex, death + the supernatural at HTMLgiant
I am afraid to be nothing.
The nothing is me, my totality and disintegration, or maybe it is just a feeling.
I call the feeling ‘nothing’ not because I am deep or French but because there is no word for becoming a whale and then dissolving.
Let’s call the feeling nothing1.
There is another kind of nothing, we’ll call it nothing2.
This nothing is a cinematic nothing, more tactile than the first, a black vacuum, a gooey void, memelike, the French one.
I have no relationship with nothing2, because it has rejected me, though sometimes I pretend to be well-versed in nothing2.
I speak as though nothing2 is a close friend, an ally, has me on its list.
I do this so as to appear deep.
I want to appear deep, because i do not feel like enough of a something.
The act of striving to appear deep, the hope that I might convince someone of my depth, feels like a something.
It feels like a punch in the nothing1.
There is no punch in the nothing1.
You cannot fake friendship with the nothing1.
There are blankets you can wrap around the nothing1.
Then the blankets dissolve with you.
"Broder manages to conjure a psychic realm best described as one part twisted funhouse and two parts Catholic school, heavy on libido and with a dash of magick. This gritty, cherry soda–black book...is bizarrely sexy in its monstrousness."
"I don’t know what a book is if not a latch to elsewhere, and Scarecrone has pressed its skull against the hidden door. It is neither drunk nor ecstatic to be here—it is a state unto itself."
"Lushly dark and infused with references to black magic, Broder's work often feels less like a book and more like a mystical text."
"Out to 'crucify boredom,' her poems show us how any relationship with the divine is no less at risk of engendering grotesque lust...What makes Broder such a pleasure on the page is her insistence that these dramas play out on a workaday stage infused with surreal Pop and imaginative muscle..."
"With a title recalling Yeats...Broder risks the divine in her second book...shrewd, funny, twisted, sad poems..."
–The Chicago Tribune
"Meat Heart...is unbelievable and overwhelming for its imaginative power alone, but if you listen past the weird you can hear all sorts of things: sadness, seriousness, life, death, and a whole lot of laughter....Broder is a tremendous talent"
"...Meat Heart embodies that strain of sustenance, that sort of psychosomatic excitement most valiant art more or less tries to pull off…Her poems don’t bore or bear down. They beam oracle energy. They pump a music of visions for the life-lusty death dance."
“This debut from Broder is as funny and hip as it is disturbing… a bright and unusual debut.”
"…obsessive, energetic and pop-culture-infused poetry…"
–Time Out New York
"Broder’s insight and honesty will make your brain light up and your hair stand on end.”
–The San Francisco Examiner
"Broder’s verse is acrobatic and whip-smart… its own creature."