Ghost Feathers

Ghost Feathers

August 06, 2020

The cold in the laundromat is specific. It is a broken-radiator cold, Buffalo, New York cold, the rotten-side-of-the-holidays cold, the cold you feel when a spirit is close.

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Avalon

Avalon

August 04, 2020

I know now what it means to be full to bursting with eager limbs, tears, and milk. I know, too, what it means to stretch something open with my own fullness by way of desire.

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Thirsty

Thirsty

July 30, 2020

At his room next morning they said, “He wanted us to tell you he was always thirsty. Now what do you figure that’s about?”

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Horizon

Horizon

July 28, 2020

The snow is thick, alive and panting, a roaring wall of white in the space between my father and me.

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A Poetry Editor’s Guide to Ruminate

A Poetry Editor’s Guide to Ruminate

July 24, 2020

I’ve tried to quantify my time here. In close to six years as poetry editor, I’ve read and evaluated near 10,000 poetry submissions, worked with over 250 poets, and co-edited twenty-four issues. However, I can’t quite quantify what I’ve learned from Ruminate—the community it’s extended to me, the people I’ve learned from and with along the way. In preparing an editorial handbook for the two incredible poets who will soon take up my position, I tried to distill the essential duties of being po...

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Nova

Nova

July 23, 2020

She said nothing, placed a hand on his forearm. Already their spirits were shrinking, an unletting of birthday-bright balloons.

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Sign of the Times

Sign of the Times

July 21, 2020

Openings are one part mystery, one part miracle. Who’s to say when they will occur, or what will result. 

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Given Light and a Mother Who Was Always Dying in Secret

Given Light and a Mother Who Was Always Dying in Secret

July 17, 2020

Dragonflies can tell the real stars from glint on lake-surface. They fly to lesser suns, their wings open to duty, dipping to mire. 

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Rewriting History

Rewriting History

July 16, 2020

It’s hot, air thick / as maple syrup, and mosquitos feast / on any flesh they find. Our bites bleed / blue as we lie in the grass

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On bee-ing free: racial justice, surviving apocalypse, and paying attention

On bee-ing free: racial justice, surviving apocalypse, and paying attention

July 15, 2020

White supremacy doesn’t just uphold police brutality and mass incarceration, migrant detention and colonial extraction on Native land; it’s death-dealing and ordinary and wants to last forever.

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The Wind

The Wind

July 14, 2020

Our parents rode in the enclosed cabin of our classic white Ford truck. They were talking but we couldn’t hear them. They never looked back to see us and we knew there was no room for us up in that sweetly, quiet cab.

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To Remember A Stranger

To Remember A Stranger

July 13, 2020

The more people I have met, the closer I have been to suffering. Many times, this makes me want to not meet more people, and, in fact, un-meet people, like a girl in a video I resent having seen or a boy in a gas station at which I didn’t have to stop.

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Writer's Habits: The Importance of Non-Writing Writing

Writer's Habits: The Importance of Non-Writing Writing

July 10, 2020

...if you saw me by the side of the road, perhaps taking a photo with my phone of some wild grapes, you wouldn’t think I’m writing, but I am—more non-writing writing.

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For the good of those who love him

For the good of those who love him

July 09, 2020

Saul’s father sits down next to him, lights Saul’s candle and pats his leg. He’s always more affectionate in church, like he’s forgotten his normal behaviors. Distracted by the possibility of God, he remembers Saul.  

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Woman

Woman

July 08, 2020

Mom turns to sand. She becomes my mother. No edges.

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Should A Catastrophe Occur

Should A Catastrophe Occur

July 07, 2020

"To be honest, half my life I’ve wanted to hide in a cupboard."

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Hazy Skies

Hazy Skies

July 06, 2020

Where I am living now, the seasons have no pivot... Springs are mercurial, senselessly violent in their cold and snow. I experience winter here like a death, wait endlessly for a green that will outgrow my grief.

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On bee-ing free: racial justice, surviving apocalypse, and paying attention

On bee-ing free: racial justice, surviving apocalypse, and paying attention

June 25, 2020

White supremacy doesn’t just uphold police brutality and mass incarceration, migrant detention and colonial extraction on Native land; it’s death-dealing and ordinary and wants to last forever.

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One More River to Cross

One More River to Cross

June 22, 2020

Daesha Devón Harris's visual art appears in Issue 48: Exposure.

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Self-Deception in the #PublishingPaidMe Marketplace

Self-Deception in the #PublishingPaidMe Marketplace

June 18, 2020

If I think too much about the racial inequalities in the publishing industry, it might push me to the point where I stop writing.

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MaDear + Gran

MaDear + Gran"Daddy"

June 14, 2020

Letitia Huckaby's visual art appears in Issue No. 54: The Everyday.

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Isaac

Isaac

June 13, 2020

Raven Leilani's poem appeared in Issue No. 44: Small. 

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Our Hands Are Bowls of Dust

Our Hands Are Bowls of Dust

June 12, 2020

Clemonce Heard's poem, Our Hands Are Bowls of Dust won second place in the 2018 Janet B. McCabe Poetry Prize and is featured in Issue 49: Mattering.

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A Scream

A Scream

June 11, 2020

It seems insidiously cruel that we don’t get to be asymptomatic carriers for the prejudice and hatred that others infect us with.

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When the Good Lord Willed the Creek to Rise

When the Good Lord Willed the Creek to Rise

June 10, 2020

Charnell Peters's poem appears in Issue 42: Forming One Another

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Job (War Survivor's Guilt)

Job (War Survivor's Guilt)

June 09, 2020

Hope Wabuke's poem appears in Issue 34: Keeping things Whole.

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On the Death of a Boy in Brooklyn

On the Death of a Boy in Brooklyn

June 06, 2020

Michael Brown Jr.'s work appears in Issue 43: Opening the Door

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A Quiet Truth

A Quiet Truth

June 05, 2020

In America they kill their children. Someone thinks this of us. It may be true. If we are brave enough to see and accept that it is, what will we do about it?

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On Constructive Anger

On Constructive Anger

June 04, 2020

Being Black and being a woman, I have a complicated relationship with anger. Sometimes I am reluctant to show anger, irritation, or frustration for fear of being labeled an “Angry Black Woman”...Unfortunately, I am frequently angry when existing in most spaces.

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A Moment for Communal Listening

A Moment for Communal Listening

June 04, 2020

In an effort to come to terms with the voices that we have ignored or silenced as a nation, we will be taking a week to listen and honor the Black voices within our creative community. 

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Ruminate's Role in this Moment

Ruminate's Role in this Moment

June 03, 2020

One of our roles as individuals is to dedicate space to listen to those who name this truth with uncompromising honesty—the grief, the pain, the anger, the sorrow. Another is to transform this listening into self-reflection and from reflection into action. To do things that you can do even if they seem too small to make a difference.

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Foreclosure Quilts

Foreclosure Quilts

June 03, 2020

Kathryn Clark's visual art appears in Issue No. 55: Under Pressure.  

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America

America

May 30, 2020

Amy Gong Liu's poem "America" appears in Issue No.55: Under Pressure.

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Out of the Wildflowers

Out of the Wildflowers

May 28, 2020

And the wildflowers. The wildflowers pushing against all odds, against this endlessly small room, this seed encasing the pivotal word: might. They come. They are mighty.

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A List of Songbirds

A List of Songbirds

May 23, 2020

Melanie S. Smith's essay "A List of Songbirds" appears in Issue No. 55: Under Pressure

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