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From Stephen Elliott
I don’t think I ever laughed with a poem. Sometimes I chuckle at a clever turn of phrase, or at a shared sentiment, or a little idiosyncrasy that I thought all my own, and though I laughed at that dirty limerick my friend wrote in fifth grade, I can still say Leigh Stein’s poetry actually elicited the kind of laughter that hurt my belly and made me want to say, “Leigh, stop, I can’t take anymore, but don’t really because, WOW!”
...moreThis month’s Rumpus Book Club selection – Leigh Stein’s Dispatch from the Future - gets an outstanding review from Guernica Magazine:
“Stein’s poems are the very perfect product of a frenetic in-between culture where knowledge is currency but also poverty, and its artistic output is underscored by a perennial ennui—like the girl in high school who wears a black beret and talks about death all the time.”
Also, be sure to watch the trailer for, as well as The Rumpus’ own Brian Spears reading from, Stein’s book here.
...moreIf you’re a member of the Rumpus Poetry Book Club (and if you aren’t, here you go), then you should have received your copy of Leigh Stein’s Dispatch From the Future weeks ago. If, however, you are among the unfortunate people who had to actually wait for the book’s official release, then today is your day.
...moreThis week’s installment of BOMB’s “Word Choice” is four poems by Leigh Stein, whose new collection, Dispatch from the Future, launches July 19th at Melville House.
The poems, like Stein’s debut novel, The Fallback Plan—a depiction of after-college limbo—strike a powerful balance between humor and melancholy, reference and storytelling.
...moreThe Rumpus Book Club has been having a great time with this month’s selection, Elizabeth Crane’s We Only Know So Much, and the Poetry Book Club has been taking Allan Peterson’s Fragile Acts with them everywhere. But we’re nearly halfway through the month.
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I thought I’d managed to sidestep the purgatorial phase between college and adulthood. Immediately after graduation, a friend hooked me up with a rent-controlled apartment in Santa Monica. I’d lined up an (unpaid) internship at Ms. Magazine and a hostessing gig at a trendy restaurant on Ocean Avenue.