Rumpus Original Fiction: Trinity
We stood there in silence for a while. Small waves of sound lapped at the stone walls and low monuments of the church: car tires, distant sirens, subway rumble.
Blogs
5640 posts
National Poetry Month: Ina Cariño
before bed, he saw out of the corner / of his eye the silhouette of his own dead lolo, / waving goodbye.
National Poetry Month: Lauren Camp
a jeweled delusion that took the whole side / of the house by the basketball hoop safe to say all / my childhood I came in the back door spinning
National Poetry Month: Maya Marshall
Every house I passed looked like anywhere I’d want to live. I wanted / and wanted: a house, a family, a house, a family,
National Poetry Month: Steven Leyva
:: one month of gap coverage :: can’t be sick / in August :: can’t be this tired today :: can’t be poor ever ::
National Poetry Month: Ariana Brown
Go to a llantero Uncle Junior would trust. Never go to the dealership. Never pay full / price for anything. If you do, you should love it.
National Poetry Month: Steven Espada Dawson
Us, less scared of La Jura, more scared of her— / only one we knew could square up and make even
National Poetry Month: Sawako Nakayasu
Are they on a mission, do they have a
purpose, / are they trying to do anything specific at all? Are they on the edge of a cliff or / are they on stable footing?
Between Conceptualism and Hyperpop in Michael Chang’s Synthetic Jungle
Here, failure to be “personal” reveals the unconscious biases that structures readers’ expectations of what counts as “personal.”
National Poetry Month: Eleni Sikelianos
driving cocodrilos and crocodiles to market / found milk instead of miracles
