Embodiment as a Sensorial Practice in Saretta Morgan’s Alt-Nature
Morgan practices the language of collective and enumerated ecologies . . . lexicons we often consider distinct, without an ecotone.
Blogs
5631 posts
Rumpus Original Fiction: Mukbang
When she swallowed, you could see, if you watched closely enough, a lump moving down her gullet and into the abyss of her impossibly beautiful body, infinitely and effortlessly more beautiful than mine.
National Poetry Month: Leslie Sainz
You never begin with a flashlight but / there are always portraits on the walls. Long women like / Modigliani's, like stretching, life fear.
National Poetry Month: Zeina Hashem Beck
To stay. Oppressors use words to possess: / “settle.” Lovers use words to escape fear.
National Poetry Month: Tariq Luthun
I wring myself / into a pain loud enough to numb / my sorrow. How long before they learn — / those boys — to do the same?
National Poetry Month: Amanda Johnston
What a waste, / one teacher shook her head upon / my withdrawal. Just another [insert stereotype].
National Poetry Month: Adam Falkner
Who doesn’t ache / for a slice of quiet in the noisy sugar of us? / Pocket of still amidst the looney & clatter?
A Panoptical View of Slough: On Sylvia Legris’s The Principle of Rapid Peering
Scattered with a sparse collection of the poet’s original sketches . . . the poems move through the slanted and repetitive months of the pandemic, bleeding into “self-digesting” seasons.
Voices on Addiction: Last Drunk
In the past, getting the ball rolling has proven to be a Sisyphean task. Max admits he has a problem and is pretty sure he can solve it. Alone.
National Poetry Month: Daniella Toosie-Watson
Make no mistake, my dad is alive / in this poem. His glasses are on, his skin is white, / and his jokes are bad.
National Poetry Month: Jai Hamid Bashir
Then, there is another creature: jewel-eyed / like a housefly’s wings in paradise, caught / in the shape of a girl.
National Poetry Month: Suzi F. Garcia
none of us / want to be where we’re from, and that is the one thing / we have in common anymore.
