The Latest
-
Susan Howe: Music Until Proven Otherwise
When the irruptive squall of language abates, when storm clouds separate, Susan intones, “You are of me & I of you, I cannot tell / Where you leave off and I begin.”
-
Synthetic Heaven
And when the high would hit, I would think to myself—This. This for as long as I can. More than summer and bicycles and flowers littered on the pavement like confetti, more than the way Sydney looks in the spring,…
-
The Dumbbell
Years passed by in a vaseline blur, sticky and tactile. His body was a glue trap that gathered all kinds of flotsam: unexplained bruises, living room stick-n-pokes, fat gained and lost. Performing made him feel sexy in a way that…
-
Embroidered Art: Diana Weymar on Andrea Gibson
Twice each month, artist Diana Weymar will dig into the Rumpus archives and make a piece of art — hand embroidered — from one of our previously published pieces.
-
Incantations for a Migrant’s Journey
Like the coconut, may your journey break open into sweetness. Àṣẹ And at its end— more sweetness.
