Poetry
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A Palestinian Voice in Gaza: Mosab Abu Toha’s Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear
Here, the will to survive outlasts destruction. Here, Palestinians in Gaza coalesce with the land and its resilient growth and beauty.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Alexa Luborsky
Girl A maintains the story of Girl B about a brother, a father, a tree, and a kiss. / The story became the thirst for a story, while the river watched.
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Let it tremble in riotous beauty: Ana Portnoy Brimmer’s To Love an Island
Our love should make us quake, quake like a storm, a storm that tears down “the whole blood-marbled edifice.”
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Identifying a Mixed Flock: Dimitri Reyes’s Papi Pichón
Such multistoried, woven-together heritage justifies and perhaps even demands the necessity of different ways to tell an origin story.
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From the Archive: Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Noor Hindi
I stopped trying / to feed anything but myself.
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Gender Interrogations in Contemporary Queer Poetics: Six New Poetry Collections
How is poetic form being adapted, altered, and reimagined in contemporary lesbian and queer poetry? Five new poetry collections by lesbian, queer, and trans poets attend keenly to gender and systems surrounding it.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Four Poems by Jon Jon Moore Palacios
Predators take pleasure in attack, but you take pleasure away / from the lacewings and the ladybugs, the wasps and the hoverfly larvae.
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Owning the Self: Yesenia Montilla’s Muse Found in a Colonized Body
I only care about revolution / & the ugly business of revenge.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Three Poems by Dorothea Lasky
In the space of the garden / I ordered each mouthless opening / Until they formed into spirit mouths
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The World of Family and the Otherworldly: Jenny Sadre-Orafai’s Dear Outsiders
Odd and evocative, Dear Outsiders does what literature does best—it takes the reader into a new world which changes them while it too changes.
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Two Poems by Carey Salerno
how exactly to ignite, to speak in sign, what the flashing draws down, damp, out, and what it / means to be a newborn body made of burnt-back embers, drifting over the sidewalk
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Rumpus Original Poetry: Two Poems by Artress Bethany White
Let’s just walk through the woods to see it / I whispered, in a flash forgetting the nature of guns