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The Rumpus Interview with Sunil Yapa

Sunil Yapa’s debut novel, Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist, is an emotional whirlwind of a book. Set amid the 1999 World Trade Organization protests, it’s a fast-paced and absorbing story...

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FUNNY WOMEN #144: Food Reviews by Third Grader

MAC ’N CHEESE: LOVE YOUR PLANET SHAPES An updated Wisconsin Valley classic that hits the middle of your tongue like butter. Refined and velvety, a tyke’s take on spaghetti carbonara, albeit without...

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Voices on Addiction: A Bad Night

“Are these okay?” My son motions towards the red plastic bowl containing a few pieces of torn sourdough bread, “Too big?” “Zach, they’re fine. Any way you tear them is fine; they’re just for stuffing.”...

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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Daddy Issues

When I moved to Minneapolis for a short three months, I got a tattoo on a deck by a guy who wasn’t a tattoo artist—just some guy who owned a tattoo machine. The babies crawling around us made it look...

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Voices on Addiction: The Honeybee

It was no place like home, but it was a place for families. They sat on metal benches in the processing room, waiting for their loved ones, hoping the next face would be the one they’d longed to see....

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Voices on Addiction: All the Ways to Save Your Life

I. The first time I was confronted with my mortality, I was five. I don’t think I fully grasped the question the doctor posed to me, but I obviously understood it well enough because I told him I...

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The Mania of Queer Desire: In Praise of Fever Ray’s Plunge

I remember driving a bird mad once. I don’t know why I’m telling you this; I suppose I feel a small sense of guilt. A mockingbird, in its exuberance, had determined itself to mimic the music that...

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Days Since Last Workplace Injury

I keep getting lost in the grocery store trying to find Lunchables. The deli next to my apartment has run out, having not yet adjusted to my demand which has recently ballooned from two a week to ten,...

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Voices on Addiction: The Economics of Gentrified Vice

On a dark night last spring I discovered how accustomed I had grown to my nighttime view, drowned out by Amante’s pulsating pizza ad. Its vibrant hum syncopating with the corner’s streetlight:...

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Rumpus Exclusive: “Sacred Stories”

When I was a little girl, my favorite room in our house was my father’s study. Furnished with a wall of scientific books, an old Macintosh, and a leather recliner, it had an air of intellectualism that...

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