_________________________________________________________
Telling Him I Kissed a Woman
I cut the pill of truth
with honey, promised,
We were drunk.
Said we were egged on
by barstools, wore dresses of gin.
Said I stumbled
onto her face, more so
than an actual kiss.
Spun it as if cameras
were rolling, an image he could beat
off to instead of curse. Said,
It meant nothing.
And how could it?
I was straight
as a wedding aisle.
I touched his beard.
Begged him to stay.
Insisted,
It was only a kiss,
and hoped he wouldn’t hear it
in my voice, how it sounded like,
It was only a decade.
It was only a war.
I didn’t tell him
there was no bar,
no audience
except the magnetic poetry tiles
falling to the floor as she pressed me
against the refrigerator, beaming.
I did not say I felt more in that
one kiss than anytime he thrust
his tongue down my throat,
or wouldn’t get a condom,
or wanted it facedown.
Swore instead,
It will never happen again.
He called me a whore.
I said,
I love you.
He called me a bitch.
I said,
Yes.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Megan Falley (she/her) is the author of three full-length collections of poetry, most recently Drive Here and Devastate Me (Write Bloody Publishing, 2018). In 2019 she co-authored How Poetry Can Change Your Heart (Chronicle Books) with her poet and partner, Andrea Gibson. Falley's chapbook, Bad Girls, Honey (Poems About Lana Del Rey) was the winner of the 2015 Tired Hearts Chapbook Prize. Falley is both a National Poetry Slam and Woman of the World Poetry Slam Finalist and has performed her work on TV One's Verses and Flow and venues and colleges nationwide. In the last two years, since Falley began writing prose, one of her essays was the first place winner of the 2021 Tom Howard/John H. Reid Essay Contest, and another was the runner-up for Phoebe Journal's 50th Anniversary Nonfiction Prize as well as nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She is the creator of the online writing course, Poems That Don't Suck, which has been called "a degree's worth of education in five short weeks." Originally from New York, she now resides in Colorado where she is still awed by the mountains.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dans le Lit, le Baiser (In Bed, The Kiss). Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1892.
What wonderful compression and lyricism in this poem, with each line crafted yet natural, delivered in how we speak when alert and blessed with the art of song. Each line of the poem is a new opening as we feast on its surprises moving slowly vertically down through it. I didn't know Megan's work before I read this and now I'm going to look for more. Glad you presented this, Terence.
Posted by: Don Berger | January 02, 2022 at 10:33 AM
Tear off the mask. Wipe the honey off the words. Speak. Thank you for this portrait. Hope to read more of your poems Megan. Yours, Indran Amirthanayagam(Editor, The Beltway Poetry Quarerly) www.beltwaypoetry.com
Posted by: Indran Amirthanayagam | January 02, 2022 at 10:37 AM
Fabulously honest! Bold narrative with great stanza breaks and line breaks doing double duty.
Posted by: Denise Duhamel | January 02, 2022 at 10:48 AM
Megan is my new poetry bitch. Said lovingly.
Once I hugged (then US POET LAUREATE) Kay Ryan and I was talking and we were hugging and she moved her head quickly and I bit her ear by accident.
The LOC photographer caught this action.
I wonder how much he wants for it.
She hurried on stage with some red on her ear. To this day I hope it was lipstick.
Posted by: gracecavalieri | January 02, 2022 at 10:58 AM
Don: a perfect take. Thank you.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 02, 2022 at 11:06 AM
An astounding poem with some powerful imagery and honesty. Thanks for posting this, Terence.
Posted by: Howard Bass | January 02, 2022 at 11:25 AM
another great choice terence, Megan's poem is perfection
Posted by: lally | January 02, 2022 at 12:00 PM
Howard: Thanks for your comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 02, 2022 at 12:16 PM
MDL: Happy you think so.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 02, 2022 at 12:18 PM
I love this poem I would marry it. Straight down the RC aisle. With Farther Casciotti's blessing, I'll bet.
Posted by: clarinda harriss | January 02, 2022 at 01:59 PM
I meant "so much that. . . ." I was too hot with blushes and passion to control my fingers.
Posted by: clarinda | January 02, 2022 at 02:00 PM
"Spun it as if cameras
were rolling, an image he could beat
off to instead of curse. Said,"
Megan is so amazing! I love this.
Posted by: Masaki Takahashi | January 02, 2022 at 04:41 PM
Beautifully heartbreaking and a feeling I’m sure sooo many queer women like me have felt. So many haunting images
Posted by: Kyrsta | January 02, 2022 at 06:06 PM
Straight as a wedding aisle! Only a decade! So obsessed with Megan, always.
Posted by: Emily Long | January 02, 2022 at 06:25 PM
I agree with Grace. And speaking of grace, this has it, and hope too, unlike the poem by Ron Filliman last week, but that was an exception, to be honest, in general, love these poets, these pests, so thank you, basically.
Posted by: april havoc | January 03, 2022 at 06:10 PM
I'll just say at my advanced age: Thanks to a few powerful lines, I'm learning about life.
Posted by: Peter Kearney | January 04, 2022 at 07:20 PM
Powerful even before the twist at the end. Thank you, Megan Falley!
Posted by: Gerald Fleming | January 04, 2022 at 08:11 PM
Great stuff
Posted by: Phyllis Rosenzweig | January 08, 2022 at 12:36 PM