stars
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: The Hammock
Birth, death. We live in the middle. “What’s it like?” Lee asks. “Is it a door, and goodbye on either side?” Just like the stars, one day we all collapse, our mass and light and energy exploding into nothingness.
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Sunday Rumpus Poetry: Three Poems by Faisal Mohyuddin
when to survive this day and the next/four years’ worth will require many/more small, nourishing acts of/self-indulgence and sweet defiance.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Tinfoil Astronaut
Every time I leap there is a chance I will fall, and every time I fall there is a chance I will finally crack my head open like a Faberge egg and luminous black spiders will crawl out to mark…