I will be doing more poetry readings

in the next 3 months than should

be allowed on this blue planet.

I will put a padlock on your tongue

and a pyramid in your earhole.

The pyramid double as an aid,

lets my air in, my devils. Shut up.

Blurb me with ferocious violence

or go eat a mango (but you can’t

say mango in a poem anymore

if you ever could). I am going

to read slow and low and you will

love  it. I will carve out your eyes

like a jack-o-lantern so there are

3 hostages instead of only 1 hostage.

No, a jack is not a fit.

Jacks die.

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Little Pig, Big Attitude

peep

Rest in peace Peaches Marie

2005-2010

Peaches had a stroke on Thursday and passed on Friday in the early morning. She missed her sister/life partner Angie very much– ever since Angie passed in May.

They are together now in that great pigloo in the sky, sharing some watermelon or perhaps a baby carrot.

We will miss our girls.


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Two Pounds of Attitude

In case any of you were wondering about the process of guinea pig grief, let it be known: a piggie will not be so easily fooled into thinking that a $7 stuffed animal is her companion of half a decade.

Nonetheless, after a rocky few weeks, Peaches appears to be emerging triumphant on the other side of Elizabeth Kubler Ross’s five stages and is once again titillated by timothy hay, a ripe plum, a bag of organic spring mix.

We are stronger than we know.

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Little Pig, Big Heart

angie
Rest in Peace Angie.

2005-2010

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It’s a Mitzvah!

I swore I wouldn’t be the kind of writer who uses her children for material, but today I am rejecting my own value-system to announce the marriage of my two daughters: Peaches and Angie. Yes, they’re sisters but they’re also…lovers. Want to make something of it?

A little more about the bride and groom:

Name: Peaches
Confirmation name: Peaches Marie
Nicknames: Peepee, Peepalah
Likes: Running in circles, headbanging, cultivating green chlorophyll bib
Dislikes: Any type of human contact, including–but not limited to: petting, touching, squeezing, kissing, or footsteps within ten foot radius
Strengths: Massive ego
Weaknesses: Massive ego
Trademarks: Athletic prowess, pink ear, “the smart one”

Name: Angie
Nicknames: Angelina Ratlie, Fatticus Ratticus
Strengths: Asserts dominance once a month when she’s “on her cycle” (or some cycle) and takes Peaches by storm
Weaknesses: Respiratory infections, Bumblefoot, possibly blind
Likes: Hiding in the pigloo, leafy greens, hay
Dislikes: Costumes, vaccuum cleaner
Trademark: Her voluptuous curves

Bride and groom are both wearing Cuddly Cavies couture. Bride’s jewels by Harry Winston.

Wedding photographer: Brandon Finney. Holiday photographer: Rick Robertson.

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The Tweeter Center

I don’t know.

I feel like I’m supposed to be tweeting the Twit now that the book is 15 days from publication. But I just don’t see myself going peacefully into the dull night of the “Really, Massachusetts? Really?” or “OMFG hahahahaha LMAO BRB LOL!!!!!!!” or “Seriously, dry cleaners? Seriously?” crowd anytime soon.

So for now, I’m running a semi-structured alphabetic poetics experiment from aboard my ‘tweet deck.’ [UPDATE: This didn't last. Though I did make it all the way backwards to the letter "A." Once.] Yeah. I figure banal posts about other people people’s poetry (O.P.P.?) can at least be classified as benevolent.

Sounds enticing, eh?

I must admit, though, that it’s tempting to twit the Twat every time I, say, have a thought. Here are some of the tweets I’ve restrained in the past two days, since ‘going public’ on Twitter:

Meditated this morning next to an open toilet.

Apparently my guinea pigs are now too upmarket for baby carrots.

Nicorette in yoga class makes for spicy Savasana.

Yoga Journal hates you.

I hate water.

Guinea pigs now too upmarket for baby carrots AND apple.

Don’t be afraid to brush curls and transform into Stevie Nicks.

Lady on A Train has bottle of Purell carabinered to her purse.

I still love you junkies.

Guinea pigs resemble Puffy and Biggie. The nasty one will surely outlive the sweet one.

Why shouldn’t she be nasty? Consider the collective unconscious of the guinea pig.

Book proof just arrived UPS!!!

Does book resemble a pamphlet?

Crying to publisher (via text)

Spin teacher really believes we are on the open road.

Publisher going to upgrade paper stock!

Why is that Misshape always at Souen?

Why am I always at Souen?

Mother and Mother-in-law are running viral grandchild marketing campaign.

Blackberry has now officially merged with hand. Hanberry. Bland?

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Last Sext

LAST SEXT

So Sad Today

SO SAD TODAY

"What separates Broder from her confessional cohort...is that she doesn’t seem to be out to shock, but to survive."
–Elle

"Broder presents a dizzying array of intimate dispatches and confessions…She has a near-supernatural ability to not only lay bare her darkest secrets, but to festoon those secrets with jokes, subterfuge, deep shame, bravado, and poetic turns of phrase."
–New York Magazine

"A triumph of unsettlingly relatable prose."
–Vanity Fair

"Her writing is deeply personal, sophisticated in its wit, and at the same time, devastating. SO SAD TODAY is a portrait of modern day existence told with provocative, irreverent honesty."
–Nylon

"At once devastating and delightful, this deeply personal collection of essays…is as raw as it is funny."
–Cosmopolitan

"Broder writes about the hot-pink toxins inhaled every day by girls and women...and the seemingly impossible struggle to exhale something pure, maybe even eternal...there's a bleak beauty in the way she articulates her lowest moments."
–Bookforum

"Broder may be talking about things like sexts, Botox, and crushes, but these things are considered alongside contemplations about mortality, identity, and the difficulty of finding substance in a world where sometimes it’s so much easier to exist behind a screen."
–The Fader

"…So Sad Today is uplifting and dispiriting in seemingly equal measure. It’s a book that’s incredibly human in the way it allows for deep self-reflection alongside Broder, which speaks not only to her powerful writing but also the internet’s magical ability to foster connections."
–A.V. Club

"...delightful...Broder embarks on an earnest, sophisticated inquiry into the roots and expressions of her own sadness...deeply confessional writing brings disarming humor and self-scrutiny...Broder's central insight is clear: it is ok to be sad, and our problems can't be reduced to a single diagnosis. "
–Publishers Weekly

"Broder is probably the Internet’s most powerful merchant of feelings…"
–GQ

"Vividly rendered and outspokenly delivered essays…Sordid, compulsively readable entries that lay bare a troubled soul painstakingly on the mend."
–Kirkus Reviews

"If Melissa Broder weren’t so fucking funny I would have wept through this entire book. Love, sex, addiction, mental illness and childhood trauma all join hands and dance in a circle, to the tune of Melissa’s unmatched wit and dementedly perfect take on this terrifying orb we call home."
–Lena Dunham

"So Sad Today is a desperately honest collection of essays, the kind that make you cringe as you eagerly, shamelessly consume them. Melissa Broder lays herself bare but she does so with strength, savvy, and style. Above all, these essays are sad and uncomfortable and their own kind of gorgeous. They reveal so much about what it is to live in this world, right now."
–Roxane Gay

Scarecrone

S C A R E C R O N E

"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."
–Publishers Weekly

"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."
–VICE

"Lushly dark and infused with references to black magic, Broder's work often feels less like a book and more like a mystical text."
–PAPERMAG

Meat Heart

MEAT HEART

"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..."
–Publishers Weekly

"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"
–Flavorwire

"...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."
–BOMB

Melissa Broder's Book Cover

MOTHER

“This debut from Broder is as funny and hip as it is disturbing… a bright and unusual debut.”
–Publishers Weekly

"…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."
–Bomb