poetry
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The Saturday Rumpus Interview: Keith Newton
What’s interesting, of course, is how modern life could easily be seen in the opposite way—as an ever-expanding domain of individuality and self-expression.
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White Blight by Athena Farrokhzad translated by Jennifer Hayashida
Gina Myers reviews White Blight by Athena Farrokhzad translated by Jennifer Hayashida today in Rumpus Poetry.
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The Rumpus Poetry Book Club Chat with Jonterri Gadson
The Rumpus Poetry Book Club chats with Jonterri Gadson about Blues Triumphant, her love of editing, and the intersection of poetry and comedy.
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The Hope Whose Death It Announces
Poetry is defined by a failure to live up to the hype it generates, promising divine transcendence through a medium that is essentially human. This is the paradox Ben Lerner articulates in his dissertation on The Hatred of Poetry. At…
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The Evolution of Adrienne Rich
Over at the New Yorker, Dan Chiasson marks the publication of Adrienne Rich’s collected works with an examination of the incredible arc of her life and career. And instead of condemning her many transformations as a kind of flightiness, he…
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Art Imitating (Imaginary) Life
Rubens Ghenov’s solo exhibit at the Morgan Lehman Gallery, Accoutrements in Marwa, an Interlude in Silver, has an interesting source of inspiration: For the past four years, Ghenov’s paintings have been inspired by the unpublished philosophical texts and verse of…
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How Yellow Is Yellow Enough?
At the Paris Review, Monica Youn discusses her latest “Twinkie” poem, “Goldacre,” written after last year’s Best American Poetry controversy: It was around the same time that I first heard the insult “Twinkie”—yellow on the outside, white on the inside—a label I…
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Much Dying to Do
Jenna Le reviews Vi Khi Nao’s new book of poetry, The Old Philosopher. While calling it “experimental” poetry, Le claims that Nao’s works are “readable,” with an “informal voice,” unlike much experimental poetry: There is a worldly, cosmopolitan sensibility at…
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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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These Are My Confessions
Many poets—male poets especially—are secretly anxious that someone will call their poetry a frivolous, feminine pursuit. And instead of embracing the potential charge of frivolity—allowing themselves to be free of it or even to toy with it—those same poets draw lines in…

