Blogs
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Voices on Addiction: Washed Clean
That’s when I noticed John the Baptist standing chest-high in the middle of the narrow, easy-moving river.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Todd McKinney
Of course, it’d be wonderful to have / the Southern Hemisphere back.
From the Archives: Rumpus Original Fiction: Even the Moon
When you finished, several minutes passed before we spoke. You dipped a finger in a pool of candle wax. How could I know this was the only real secret you’d ever kept?
Leave what you can, take the rest: An Interview with Idra Novey
Every day you have to abandon your past or accept it, and then, if you cannot accept it, you become a sculptor.
ENOUGH: Three Poems by Tenika Stallings
"On the Other Side of the Door," "Left for Dead," "The Double Cross"
A Worn Violence: On Gabrielle Bates’ Judas Goat
[T]here is a speaker who will simply persevere, who will, like “the heart trying to leave the chest,” keep going, and by keeping going, will tend always, though it’s sometimes hard, toward human connection. Toward love.
Rumpus Original Fiction: All This Will Be Underwater
I typed, Are you aging? Are you tired and worn? Do you spend all your time fretting about the fine lines on your face and how they foretell the slow and steady march toward death or, worse, that moment when the world will turn its eyes from your old & unbeautiful face?
Poets make the world huge: A conversation with Michael Wiegers of Copper Canyon
I don’t believe we come to nor travel through poetry alone . . . Rather than “social” I would instead encourage the word “communal”; the former sounds a little more performative and exclusive to my ear than does the latter, which sounds more like an invitation.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Two Poems by John A. Nieves
Balladeer Quatrains This slant-ass love song is for six storeys of cement and light and how it held every portable us blanket-swaddled against scattering. This is for…