death
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Monkey Men
Still lying on the bed in the Wausau hotel room, I started counting ceiling tiles. From above the covers. Not under. Never under. I always feel constricted, under.
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R.I.P.: Odd Habits
I would really like to see a coming back or recreation of funeral rites. Let’s create new ones. Let’s take this matter into our own hands.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: The Leaving Deficit
Feathers are a gift and flexible protein. Mom put down tobacco and ran her fingers over its exposed parts. She told me the salmon run is coming and this bird would have wanted for nothing.
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The Rumpus Interview with Jamie Brickhouse
Jamie Brickhouse discusses Dangerous When Wet: A Memoir of Booze, Sex, and My Mother, a memoir that chronicles his intimate, near-fatal journey through alcoholism, and living HIV positive.
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Plagued by Sanity
I had become periodically insane, with long bouts of horrible sanity… –Mark McCawley Just how do we define someone like Mark McCawley, who died earlier this year after a twelve-year wrestling match with cancer? Writer Bart Plantenga does his best…
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The Healing Magic of Baseball
In that favorite summer of my memory, Mom is perched on the edge of the rickety folding chair in box seats that the team manager reserved for us.
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In Mourning
Over at Lit Hub, Christopher Soto (aka Loma) reflects on Orlando and writes movingly about the experience of holding an identity that is constantly targeted and executed in our world: He propped me up like the roof of a cathedral,…
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The Rumpus Review of The Narrow Door by Paul Lisicky
If we’re honest with ourselves, the great loves of our lives are often platonic.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Nix
My sister used to accuse me of intellectualizing mental illness when I spoke of our brother’s brain, his schizophrenia, in scientific terms… I never knew how to explain what I felt—that science could be a way of loving something more…

