Blogs
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A Silver Bowl of Stars: Blas Falconer’s Rara Avis
Whether “It’s a [family] story we don’t like / to tell” or the shifting of roles and a meditation on death “In the book we are reading together,” wisdom closes its hand over sentiment.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Obliquity
Andrea tells me her hallucinations are getting worse, more frequent, more frightening, though she doesn’t elaborate on how.
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![Rumpus Original Fiction: Application for Admission [DRAFFFFT] from Kaylee River King](https://therumpus.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/siraacha.png)
Rumpus Original Fiction: Application for Admission [DRAFFFFT] from Kaylee River King
Dear Committee, Please consider my application for admission under your new Charles Schwab Playing Field Initiative, which I believe I qualify for in double spades.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Iqra Khan
here/ my uncle is in service of thirty-three / guava trees/ he asks us to gather what the storm / has coaxed to the ground
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Voices on Addiction: Badfish, Don’t Bother Me
Probably, then and there on the wraparound porch, I should have known to turn around, should have left it all to someone else—the missing key an omen. But I was always going to find it.
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A Search for Country and Identity in Ayokunle Falomo’s Autobiomythography Of
It is Falomo’s legacy of rebirth, in rich, outstanding text, that there are things which must burn in order to be birthed anew
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“Simply tell the story”: A VOA Mini-interview with Nikkya Hargrove
…family relationships can and do change, and those we feel “kin” to can also change.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by juj e lepe
Never mind strange dogs / down murder-hornet ridge, water / nipping at your bones; I will find you
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Boy Moms
It’s nice of the Baptists to let us use this space––though of course, we know they’re trying to convert us. We’re okay with that. It feels good to be wooed.
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We Are More: Three Poems by Marlin M. Jenkins
Because sometimes the gravity / of care is too strong for you to walk.
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Slant Panes of Light: Emilie Menzel’s The Girl Who Became a Rabbit
Meaning is fleeting. Meaning is self-made.
