Sophie Klahr
-
Notable NYC: 2/2–2/8
Saturday 2/2: Chia-Lun Chang and Lonely Christopher join the Segue Series. Zinc Bar, $4:30 p.m., $5. Monday 2/4: Shomari Wills presents Black Fortunes: The Story of the First Six African Americans Who Survived Slavery and Became Millionaires, and talks with Samuel…
-
Voices on Addiction: Five Poems by Sophie Klahr
I mis- / take this state for another. Take the wheel.
-
Notable NYC: 5/13–5/19
Sunday 5/14: Juliana Huxtable presents Mucus in My Pineal Gland along with Diamond Stingily and Andrew Durbin. McNally Jackson Books, 6 p.m., free. Wendy Xu, Tobias Carroll, Jimn Han, Jeanann Verlee, and Keegan Lester join the Dead Rabbits Reading Series. DTUT,…
-
National Poetry Month Day 27: Bright Division
Every year, The Rumpus celebrates National Poetry Month by running new poems from poets we admire. We feature a different poet each day, and aim to illustrate the variety in voices and styles of poetry being written today.
-
Weekend Rumpus Roundup
First, we close out National Poetry Month with Sophie Klahr breaking down literary conventions in “Slant,” and Sandra Simonds offering two powerful poems about sexuality and shame. Meanwhile, Brandon Hicks illustrates what he has learned from famous author’s photos. Then, in the Saturday Interview with…
-
National Poetry Month Day 30: Sophie Klahr
Slant which codes the luminous tree at your gate which broad night renders its own wild leap
-
The Last Poem I Loved: “Locking Yourself Out Then Trying To Get Back In” by Raymond Carver
Some deep part of me thinks that this is all poetry is, at best: a clear record of a moment where something catches.
-
National Poetry Month Day 7: “Do You?” by Sophie Klahr
Welcome to The Rumpus’s National Poetry Month project. We’ll be running a new poem from a different poet each day for the month of April. Do You?
-
The Last Poem I Loved: “Bolt from the Blue” by Gregory Orr
After taking a certain number of poetry classes, one may end up with a giant box of photocopied poems. If one is a packrat (and I am), these poems are impossible to discard. Sometimes I cut them up for collages,…