Poetry
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Sylvia Plath and Reclaiming the Gaze
Perhaps as women we are always trying to record the gaze. Marginalized people are often asked to validate our distrust, trepidation, and fear.
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This Most Vulnerable of Houses: Fady Joudah’s Footnotes in the Order of Disappearance
These poems, poised at the intersections of the material, the metaphorical, and the spiritual, fold into and out of one another as their boundaries dissolve with question after question.
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The Rumpus Mini-Interview Project #125: Tyree Daye
“I think if you are really doing the work, you can’t write about America and not explore race and slavery, and that goes for any writer.”
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The Rumpus Poetry Book Club Chat with Eloisa Amezcua
Eloisa Amezcua discusses her collection From the Inside Quietly, bilingualism in poetry, and the connection between whiteness and yeast infections.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Two Poems by Carolina Ebeid
All the horrible days arriving—listen— / the children stretch their spans // before tombstones practicing fame pretending corpse-life
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Why I Chose Shara Lessley’s The Explosive Expert’s Wife for the Rumpus Poetry Book Club
Here’s what we’re reading in our Poetry Book Club next month!
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Wide-Eyed and Awed: Keegan Lester’s this shouldn’t be beautiful but it was & it was all I had so I drew it
Lester often weaves past and present, the personal and the vast into one poem, leaping between these seeming opposites.
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Language Is Sensational: A Conversation with Eileen G’Sell
Eileen G’Sell discusses her debut collection, Life After Rugby, how and why she chose her book’s title, and challenging gender categories.
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SquareRoot of Love, Politics, and Power
If we really believe that love is important and necessary then where is it, especially when it comes to world politics and power?
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Which Flame Is Mine?: A Conversation with Rajiv Mohabir
Rajiv Mohabir discusses his second collection, The Cowherd’s Son, his work as a translator, and resisting erasure in a racist America.
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Intentions, Inquiries, and Impossible Tasks: Jenny Molberg’s Marvels of the Invisible
We discover that each of these moments and stories is held to the boat’s body like a clew: tight; so much so as to be nearly indistinguishable from the whole.
