My parents knew that ten percent of my cells were missing an X-chromosome before I was born. I didn’t find out until I was nine.
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.
He dug and dug and dug. Under the scorching summer sun, Balram toiled endlessly.
And yet nothing is as satisfying // as scratching the pen back // and forth over having it all // done and evidenced.
By C.A.Dickson
The first time I tasted a Landomunn Farms pistachio, it ruined me.
If you move a chair, // the Pharaoh's curse may turn out // to be a fact.
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
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.