Recent posts
Rumpus Articles
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Let All Our Ghosts Depart
This is what beauty was, she said. This is what beauty made you into.
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A Lament, A Call to Action, A Love Story: A Conversation with Alejandro Varela
There’s truth in everything we write, but there’s a lot of fabrication and fantasy, and you don’t have that freedom with science.
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November Spotlight: Letters in the Mail
Our November Letters in the Mail come from Daniel Gumbiner and Jami Nakamura Lin.
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Owning the Self: Yesenia Montilla’s Muse Found in a Colonized Body
I only care about revolution / & the ugly business of revenge.
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The Tether Between Poetry and Science: a conversation with Emily Hockaday
Just as my body that might ache all night is the same body that gives me pleasure. And I feel it aching because I am alive and living in it.
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A Literature for Lost Souls: Oksana Vasyakina’s Wound
Vasyakina powerfully encompasses the absurd and expansive universe of what Gogol described as the “unbridled incomprehensible Rus,” her homeland land with its terrors, its poetry and loftiness and its magic, to the skin and bones of the tender and violent…
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Rumpus Original Fiction: A Note to Say Hello, I’m Here
“I don’t know why the hell he chose to live here, of all places. Sometimes it feels like the loneliest city in the world.”
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The Confines of Masculinity Are Killing Us: A Conversation with Joe Milan Jr.
We believe we grant access to our lives to others; I think that is an illusion.
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What to Read When You Want to Find Home
Even if I’m still in limbo, I’m learning what home means for me and how it shows up in both my body and my mind.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Dorothea Lasky
In the space of the garden / I ordered each mouthless opening / Until they formed into spirit mouths
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The Way America Treats Teens Is Unacceptable: A Conversation with Emi Nietfeld
Being affected in those ways can give us motivation to make sure that other people aren’t hurt in the same ways that we’ve been hurt.
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ENOUGH: Hold Your Breath Up To The Mirror and Draw Yourself a New Face
I wish you didn’t have to climb onto the light fixture like a revenant, / watch his fingers probe someone glued to the ground, her eyes a fist.