Poetry
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National Poetry Month: “DRAB AS A F OOL, AS A LOOF AS A BARD”
Don’t nod, borrow or rob. Live not on evil,
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National Poetry Month: Magdalena
Magdalena was shaping small pools of water in pockets of stone. A bare-faced ibis sounded his quintuplet alarm when you turned to me to say you’d stopped the medications one month ago. The head pain, back pain, tremors, the cytomegalovirus—too…
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
so that the sounds of daily living become a part of the ritual as public as private as life but also so that when I sit in the dark on the couch paying the bills my face illuminated by the…
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
in a woodstove. Some warmth returns to my life, some looking-after feeling, some protective force for what is tender, vulnerable and lost in me until now. What a joy
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National Poetry Month: A Day in the Life
I paid my friends to step on their hands with stilettos The gift of stigmata
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![National Poetry Month: “WHEN PRAYER DIDN’T AWAY THE GAY, MY DAD TAUGHT ME HOW TO PLAY DOOM ON THE FAMILY COMPUTER [Golden Shovel]”](https://therumpus.net/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/pic-Ty-Raso.jpeg)
National Poetry Month: “WHEN PRAYER DIDN’T AWAY THE GAY, MY DAD TAUGHT ME HOW TO PLAY DOOM ON THE FAMILY COMPUTER [Golden Shovel]”
I have this dream where I am the last person alive on a two- dimensional earth, my body 3D like a fruit, and start- ing to inside-out itself, until my gut is a skirt and my DOOM- sense is like…
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
which was not unlike your beating heart. A city in which I was a stranger, and thought long afternoons on the beating hearts of strangers.
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
Tightened, cut repetitions, activated passive voice, considered where we might be locked in the wheel Put some things down there
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
TVs, SCANNERs, as advertised in the window, & another said SHOES: SOLES & REPAIRS & another said Passport photos & DrEAM REPAIR & another said MisC. so when it was my turn
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National Poetry Month: “Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma”
A body can waste away quietly, carrying an enemy in its blood. It doesn’t want to fight; it wants to toil skin-deep in the blood.
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National Poetry Month: “SUPER BOWL LX: BENITO”
Meaning the Boricua, not the brutish brain that argued Everything in the State, nothing outside the State, nothing against the State; meaning the man of the island outside US borders but not outside US possession, the descendant of sugarcane and…
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National Poetry Month: “The Longshot”
The first woman ever made, walked into the hippodrome, counterclockwise, her jet arms paying homage to the great sunflower field of mothers she had left behind, scenic hips reminiscent of old bougainvillea