ENOUGH: The Grooming of a Nymphet
Balance returning and free to strut once more, I began landing my jumps again, just because he said I could.
Blogs
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Loss
I thought about that Chupacabra at the farmhouse, ripping those goats to shreds. He was my fucking hero.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Get Gone
Every customer with perfect lipstick and a hard-lined face reminded me of Mom. We hadn’t spoken in nearly a year.
Voices on Addiction: I’m Not Eating
I want to tell her that starving softens the edges of everything. When I’m not eating, only the moment at the end makes me feel present.
Identifying a Mixed Flock: Dimitri Reyes’s Papi Pichón
Such multistoried, woven-together heritage justifies and perhaps even demands the necessity of different ways to tell an origin story.
Voices on Addiction: This is Not A Story About Sobriety
I didn’t realize until I wrote this: my first interaction with alcohol was shrouded in secrecy.
Funny Women: Query Letter for My Totally Publishable Novel
(The previous sentence demonstrates both my market awareness and my forward thinking.)
From the Archive: Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Noor Hindi
I stopped trying / to feed anything but myself.
ENOUGH: Abstinence of Education
Some people don’t like the word, “trigger.” I don’t like it. If you give me a better extremity-isolating-suitcase-flying-fury of a word, I will use it.
Gender Interrogations in Contemporary Queer Poetics: Six New Poetry Collections
How is poetic form being adapted, altered, and reimagined in contemporary lesbian and queer poetry? Five new poetry collections by lesbian, queer, and trans poets attend keenly to gender and systems surrounding it.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Jon Jon Moore Palacios
Predators take pleasure in attack, but you take pleasure away / from the lacewings and the ladybugs, the wasps and the hoverfly larvae.
Voices on Addiction: Searching for My Mother’s Ocean
We left when the boats were shutting down and the stores closed. In the darkness of downtown Miami, fear crept into the cracks of my boldness. Downtown was not a safe place at night.