marijuana
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Voices on Addiction: The Honeybee
She never stopped, a bee buzzing from flower to flower to flower, collecting all the sweetness she could.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: The Barbecue
Up close, the beach was disgusting and tragic. A million tiny pieces of plastic were heaped on the shore like confetti from a hundred parades, or like the real sand on the beach threw up.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Jefferson St. Apartments
Our perspectives bend and embellish, the run-down domicile is one year shitty and shameful, the next a sacred heaven.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Daddy Issues
What I’m saying is I was a fucking wreck and it’s not my dad’s fault.
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The Storming Bohemian Punks the Muse #12: What Is Safety?
Oh better far to live and die Under the brave black flag I fly Then play a sanctimonious part With a pirate head and a pirate heart!! –The Pirates of Penzance At fifteen years old, I was a runaway. It…
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Rumpus Original Fiction: April, 1968
Used to see lots of psychedelic princes and princesses on Haight Street. Not many these days. But here were hundreds of the turned on and tuned in, dressed like birds and peacocks in heat.
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FUNNY WOMEN #144: Food Reviews by Third Grader
This refined combination will transport taste buds into a state of euphoria matched only when capturing a rare Mewtwo on Pokémon Go.
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The Storming Bohemian Punks the Muse #5: Vulcan Mind Meld, Anyone?
Your Storming Bohemian is emphatically a child of the early 70s. At fifteen, I lived in a hippie commune under the guidance of an eccentric psychologist, later diagnosed as bipolar. All I knew is, he was hella fun. Dr. Bill…
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The Diary of Anaïs Nin While Binge-Watching Broad City
One episode after another with every outrageous twist and turn. I smile but no laughter comes—just a gaping mouth wishing to devour more!
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Reading Mademoiselle Gantrel
We squinted into the smoky room and saw ourselves on junior year abroad, frolicking on the Left Bank with artists in berets like hers.
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David Biespiel’s Poetry Wire: Primal Talk
One of the thrills of being a writer is becoming aware of the wildness that percolates inside of you. If you’ve learned to listen, you’re able to hear it.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Swans and Other Lies
As she presses against Patterson, she feels her feet softening, losing gravity. He’s embracing her, willing her to disappear, swallowing her.