If you move a chair, // the Pharaoh's curse may turn out // to be a fact.
The Rumen is a collaboration between writers and poets from a variety of demographics and backgrounds. Like the guts of an ungulate, we want The Rumen to be a space for ideas and experiences to digest, ferment, and transform.
Outside, the morning sun // Is sitting in the sky // Like a cake plate crayoned
I will never forget // how quickly your scooter sped down the hill
By Anya Reeve
The smoke tasted on my tongue that morning, mingled with fresh bite of air. Once on my tongue, the sapidity of ashing wood exhaled from my breath and nostrils. Clear, oh so clear.
By Matt Gulley
a quick search, a type and tap // or a phone-sought friend, at longest last
Have a poem, short story, or piece of creative non-fiction that you'd like to share with the world? Visit our submissions page to learn more about contributing to The Rumen.