Slant Panes of Light: Emilie Menzel’s The Girl Who Became a Rabbit
Meaning is fleeting. Meaning is self-made.
Poetry
2320 posts
Rumpus Original Poetry: Two Poems by Ava Chen
Nothing appears on the news— / I have been checking for years. /
What’s left composes and composes, / unbearably distinct against the horizon.
Reversing the Apocalypse: A Review of Hussain Ahmed’s Blue Exodus
...the world of the dead, the living, and the unborn are all in a cycle. Human materiality is indestructible.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Jan Beatty
I’ve filled states, the state / of Oklahoma, for example, flat, / unyielding fields, split with / no-river gorges, what’s left / of me after the flooding.
Red as in: Dawn Lundy Martin’s Instructions for the Lovers
Perhaps like a phoenix, Martin maintains such a commanding presence throughout the book because she has endured the sacrificial fire of being a poet, the necessary self-immolation.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Michael Chang
as catwoman took off in a cemetery in queens / overturning headstones we hear great news
The Astonishing Power of African Poetry: A Review of New-Generation African Poets (Kumi)
Featuring gifted emerging poets from Ghana, Nigeria and South Africa . . . Kumi is a final tribute to a visionary and valuable investment in African poetry.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Mia S. Willis
the pink mink that matched cam’ron’s flip phone is / paparazzi primed and haunting my father’s closet
Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Chris Crowder
I am trying to be less miserable, digging / for everything I have to write into my flesh.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Marisa Tirado
More poems that make me uncomfortable / with the slant of the world! Follow it to the fold!
Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Cindy Juyoung Ok
Others have more lateral complaints after reading / books on plant cultivation and memorizing ideal / temperatures, water sources, and angles of sunlight.
Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Zachariah Claypole White
sisyphus never bothered to name breathless desire / suffering a language like canker sores you collect