Poems
-
“LaVena Johnson to Sarah Palin,” A Rumpus Original Poem
In Iraq, in the summer of 2005, 19 year old US Army Private LaVena Johnson was found dead and mutilated in a tent belonging to military contractors KBR. The Army, to this day, asserts that her injuries were self inflicted,…
-
The Gray Side of The Moon
I heard Bucky Sinister read this poem at the Quiet Lightning reading series and it was so beautiful I asked him if we could publish it here. – Stephen Elliott
-
“Call the Clock,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Nicole Walker
Call the Clock I was a little envious. I’d only ever had one and he— cat o’ hearts—he had nine. He traded them in every time they got broken.
-
“Elena Wears the Robe”: The Rumpus Inaugural Poem
On August 5, 2010, the Senate confirmed the nomination of Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court. She will be the 112th person to serve on the Court, and the 4th woman. The Rumpus is happy to mark this occasion with…
-
“I Will Away,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Keetje Kuipers
I Will Away With your promises tucked like a dry newspaper under my safe arm.
-
“Googlism for Steve,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Neil de la Flor
Googlism for Steve Steve is in my closet. Steve is non-industrious and totally asexual. Steve is still alive somewhere in the world.
-
“Of All the Dead People I Know,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Karyna McGlynn
Of All the Dead People I Know I can’t imagine any of them hanging out. They are in arcadia with their laptops but there are no outlets, and they are playing a video game in which they can never move…
-
“The Green of Iran” A Rumpus Original Poem by Sholeh Wolpé
The Green of Iran No departures here. In Tehran out and in are closed, under and over, stained.
-
National Poetry Month: Day 31. “Paper Person” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
Paper Person I trace paper’s origins to ancient China, where a eunuch in the Imperial Household collects wasps. He watches them bounce against oiled panes of linen, chew
-
National Poetry Month: Day 30. From “The Tinajera Notebook” by Forrest Gander
From “The Tinajera Notebook Synthesized with a common helplessness. Fined-down by the exorbitant demand of work, surrounded, inundated with chatter as the zócalo is when grackles descend en masse whirring, wheedling, scrawking. For us, every hour has become that hour…
-
National Poetry Month: Day 29. “Cain” by Jericho Brown
Cain First, a conversation. Now, A volcano. Call me quick Tempered vegan. Turnip Lover. Fruit licker. Mound
-
National Poetry Month: Day 28. “How to Dance When You Do Not Know How to Dance” by Nick Lantz
How to Dance When You Do Not Know How to Dance You and I fit together like two millstones, and oh the music we make of grist, going round and round the same