Sunday Rumpus Poetry: Three Poems by Faisal Mohyuddin
when to survive this day and the next/four years’ worth will require many/more small, nourishing acts of/self-indulgence and sweet defiance.
Rumpus Original
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The Rumpus Inaugural Poems: Leila Chatti
Each day from January 7 to January 20, Rumpus Original Poems will feature poetry written in response to the coming presidential inauguration. Today's poem is from Leila Chatti.
The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Pinpricks
Time is king. Believers, agnostics or atheists—humans or not: time rules us. We submit to it, surrender to it, and are shaped by it.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Salt
A flash-fire covered the horizon all around and behind her, and my mother glowed genuine blue. I saw her skeleton, or maybe her white-hot soul. Something flew up and around our heads.
The Rumpus Interview with Jessica Valenti
Jessica Valenti discusses her memoir, Sex Object, how the experiences she touches on in her book shaped her, and how she discovered herself outside of those experiences.
An Ultimate Illustrated Fantasy Guide of Gilmore Girls Mashups
HOW AWESOME WOULD THESE MASHUPS BE? Oh well. Maybe next year.
Make/Work Episode 37: Melody Parker
In Episode 37 of The Rumpus’s Make/Work podcast, Scott Pinkmountain speaks with composer, singer, and producer Melody Parker about her incredible new album, Archipelago.
Sand Becoming Glass
You can call a soldier a hero or a murderer. You can call them a warrior or a monster. You can call them savior or Satan. You could call them Brother. Maybe even mother.
The Rumpus Interview with Roxane Gay
Roxane Gay discusses her new collection, Difficult Women, the problem with whiteness as the default and the need for diverse representation, and life as a workaholic.
FUNNY WOMEN #148: The Hindenburg Review Writers’ Workshop
Welcome to the Hindenburg Review Writers’ Workshop!
Market Researching My Desire
I noted the weirdness, and then filed it away until a time I might really consider the implications of wanting to bury someone’s stockings. I was lost in metaphor, which meant I was lost in everything.
The Real Fidel
In a flash nearly 200,000 Cuban refugees understood that we’d lost our homeland and had better get used to life en la Yuma. We packed for six weeks, and we stayed for six decades.