Rumpus Original Fiction: Fichte Died Here
Seven digits, no area code. Local. Hello, a voice said.
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Rumpus Articles
This is a Meditation on Survival: A Conversation with Emily Raboteau
These works of public art are gifted, if you notice them, if you’re in a state of wakefulness.
Life is Tragicomic: A Conversation with Essie Chambers
There are two Post-its on my computer at all times: "Tell the truth" and "Make yourself laugh."
Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Cindy Juyoung Ok
Others have more lateral complaints after reading / books on plant cultivation and memorizing ideal / temperatures, water sources, and angles of sunlight.
Beyond the Page: Undocupoets
We see intimacy, an uneasy position within the natural world, one that requires mediation. And we see five emerging poets ready to reshape their futures according to their poetry.
The Poetic Heart: A Conversation with Emily Jon Tobias
My job is to channel the character and it doesn’t matter if I like it or not, or if I agree with them or not.
Voices on Addiction: Furry Dice, Milkshakes, and Meth
I won’t wear the red flats again. That’s that girl who is in the bathroom forever. I know everybody knows.
PT Porn and Transfiction: Ann Rower’s If You’re A Girl
Ann Rower was 53 when she made her literary debut with this collection of personal essays and stories. Initially published by Semiotext(e) in 1991 as the first entry of their Native Agents series that platformed women in an overly male literary landscape, If You’re a Girl captured the spit and vinegar of mid-late twentieth-century female bohemia.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Nosedive
Standing and staring at a familiar nothing, you’re suddenly peaceful, suspended; you don’t want to move an inch.
“Poetry’s Invitation to Spend Time in a Small Moment:” A Conversation with Rahul Mehta
I can make connections across different times in my life, connections between different selves, and somehow that makes everything feel more whole.
Parallel Practice: Aftermath
This is often all I need from it. To make sense of some immediate piece. To ease the ache of existence.