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Rumpus Original Poems
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National Poetry Month Day 6: “The First Kiss” by Carmen Giménez Smith
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. The First Kiss the first kiss was memento mori the second one aspiration the third…
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National Poetry Month Day 5: “Zahrada” by Fady Joudah
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. Záhrada From the Moorish synagogue in Prague Next to Kafka’s statue The father wife and…
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National Poetry Month Day 4: “The Last Meal of the Iceman” by T.R. Hummer
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. The Last Meal of the Iceman He had eaten alpine ibex, which yields a greasy…
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National Poetry Month Day 3: “Cousins” by Jonterri Gadson
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. Cousins On the rock slide behind Building 10, we crushed pebbles into powder, and plotted…
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National Poetry Month Day 2: “At the Book Shrink” by Brenda Shaughnessy
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. At the Book Shrink one learns to say “my body uses me as a grape…
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National Poetry Month at The Rumpus
This is the fourth time we at The Rumpus have celebrated National Poetry Month by running a new, original poem by a different poet every day of April (and sometimes a little beyond). You’ll be able to keep up with…
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“How clearly you can see some nights,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Katie Chaple
How clearly you can see some nights So many stars like salt crystals scattered on a tablecloth, the seeming blankness of space,
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“Winter Lottery,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Michael McGriff
Winter Lottery In the gray, frozen months, the pack rats moved into the garage and ruined everything.
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“That Old Desire,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Meghan O’Rourke
That Old Desire Was a fire licking and hot, a red fur with blue trim, like an Elizabethan ruff, if a ruff could be made
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“into a film,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Ryan Eckes
a wonderful thing about philadelphia is / it’s not new york city
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“The Mathematician,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Carl Adamshick
The Mathematician She’s taken to sleeping late. Only recently have I come to stare on her as phenomenon.
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“In the Pink,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Maureen Thorson
In the Pink I walk the beach by the Tickle Inn and I know that breakups suck.