Blogs
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Uncanny Valley by Jon Woodward
Andrew Field reviews Jon Woodward's Uncanny Valley today in Rumpus Poetry.
National Poetry Month Day 11: “Billy Divine” by Adam McGovern
Billy Divine The American Primeval is not the green garden we think we’ve lost it’s stark white cloudless sky above a cinder-gray shack
SELF-MADE MAN #21: Love Your Zombie
Sometimes I get this ragged wind in my chest. It’s a graveyard in there, too: instead of clothes holding my ghost shape, it’s my old self that calls out from beneath bone.
David Biespiel’s Poetry Wire: Politics and Post-Modernism?
No one can know for sure what literary historians will make of it, least of all me as I pound out an editorial about poetry every week. But if I…
National Poetry Month Day 10: “Seven Confessions: A Chapbook” by Julie Sheehan
Seven Confessions: A Chapbook
Song and Error by Averill Curdy
Maya Popa reviews Averill Curdy's Song and Error today in Rumpus Poetry.
Post Black? 5 Poems and 3 Notes on Culture, Craft and Race
The following piece was presented as “5 Poems and 3 Notes” in the panel “Post Black? Culture, Craft, and Race in Verse” at the 2013 AWP Conference in Boston, Massachusetts.
National Poetry Month Day 9: “Stone Cold Jane” by Cornelius Eady
“Stone Cold Jane” is one of the tracks from Cornelius Eady’s new chapbook from Kattywompus Press, Book of Hooks. I say tracks because these are as much songs as poems.…
Nick Cave Monday #30: “Heathen Child”
Grinderman announced their breakup about a year ago. But guess what Bad Seeders? Grinderman is performing two sets at Coachella in the coming days. Let’s revisit the first single from…
National Poetry Month Day 8: “The American Dream Visits While I Clean” by Julie Brooks Barbour
The American Dream Visits While I Clean It wasn’t part of me, only something I listened to, like radio music or dialogue on the evening news. I was cleaning the…
National Poetry Month Day 7: “Cafe Space” by James Hoch
Café Space Here comes backwash from apocalypse gamey as last night’s monastery potluck. Did you have the goat bleating from the roof of a floating house, its song as old…