My name is Lewis Mundt. I'm writer in Minneapolis and most days am trying to figure out how the world is put together. I've got about zero answers and a lot of trying behind and ahead of me. But I think it'll be all right.

Twitter: @beardpoetry |
~ Saturday, October 18 ~


Tags: lewis mundt 31/31 poetry
9 notes
~ Tuesday, October 14 ~

Anonymous said: Why does your Facebook say you're 'cisgender'?

This is kind of a strange thing, because my ‘Gender’ field is set to be visible only to my Facebook friends but you’re here on anonymous.  Why for?

At any rate, in the communities around me I think “male” and “female” are incomplete terms, so saying I’m a cisgender male is my way of clarifying those grey areas.  I was born biologically male, grew up identifying as a boy, and now present and identify primarily as male, with some variance.  So it’s mostly a clarification thing.


4 notes
~ Monday, August 18 ~

"Ferguson is NOT a war zone. I’ve been in two war zones and those people shot back.” -a civilian speaker at the Atlanta vigil this passed Thursday.


"Ferguson is NOT a war zone. I’ve been in two war zones and those people shot back.” -a civilian speaker at the Atlanta vigil this passed Thursday.

(Source: horan-swift)

51,745 notes
reblogged via gingerfeminist
~ Wednesday, August 13 ~

"Depression, Too, Is a Kind of Fire," Taylor Mali


I’m an idiot because once
before we were married she asked me whether I knew
that we would not be having children
if we did get married, and I said yes.
And because she knew I was lying,
she asked if I was really okay with that.
And because I’m an idiot I said yes again.

And once during a fight, not married
more than two years, she said she felt like my first wife,
and I, like an idiot, assured her that she was.

She worked out at the gym five times a week
and smoked as many packs of ultra lights,
and I’m an idiot because when I asked her why,
She said, Because I hate myself and I want to die.
And I laughed and said something I don’t recall,
something completely and utterly insufficient.

From the roof of our apartment,
I saw 40 or 50 people jump from the towers
on a Tuesday morning—we used to be able to see them to the south,
just as, to the north, we can still see
(and by “we” I guess I mean now just me)
the Empire State Building,
which still steeps me in gratitude
because I’m an idiot—
out of the smoke with arms flailing.
And I swear I saw a perfect swan.

And I was going to write a poem
about how fire is the only thing
that can make a person jump out a window.

And maybe I’m an idiot for thinking I could have saved her—
call me her knight in shattered armor—
could have loved her more,
or told the truth about children.

But depression, too, is a kind of fire.
And I know nothing of either.

(Source: pigmenting)

371 notes
reblogged via punch-in-the-face-poetry
~ Tuesday, August 12 ~

Robin Williams; August 12, 2014

Depression, too, is a kind of fire.
                  — Taylor Mali

We wake this morning
and the funny man has stopped
laughing has stopped dancing
has stopped
and there is nothing we can do
to relight the torch extinguished
as if by some squall in the night

This language we know falls short
of explaining the loss of a person
into himself.  Depression we say
addiction we say suicide the
window the bottle the empty eyes and
the full bathtub

We say darkness

We say darkness but we do not speak
but we must speak

we must not let the words go unsaid
must not be afraid of the light in us
must not pretend we have not seen it
the missing note in a friend’s song
the mind’s closed door like the seal
on a mausoleum

these people are like you are afraid
of being forgotten I am afraid of being
forgotten he was afraid of being forgotten
is afraid of being forgotten we are afraid
of being forgotten they are afraid of being
forgotten so say their names like they are
something you know like they are not
the dead but like they are the prayer because
we are the prayer because we know
the darkness know the people inside of it
but if we forget how to reach in we will forget
how to reach out I have been afraid
of knocking on the closed door
but no longer no longer no longer will I carry embers
in my mouth and not speak no longer
will I carry unsaid prayers for those of us
walking yes I will speak at the door speak
when I see the darkness god bless us because we can
speak like our teeth are flint speak
against the squall in every night speak
like we are lighthouses speak
like we are the sun because we are because we
are because we are and we must speak
for those trying to follow our starlight

Tags: robin williams poetry lewis mundt
7 notes
~ Saturday, August 2 ~
2,603 notes
reblogged via hookscellphone
~ Tuesday, July 15 ~


Lewis Mundt - “Father Benjamin” (Poetry Observed)

"Since I have been able to understand volume, my father has been the loudest quiet I have known."

Performing as part of our series with Poetry Observed.

Hey; it’s me!

519 notes
reblogged via buttonpoetry
~ Friday, July 11 ~

Robert D. Richardson on Ralph Waldo Emerson, from First We Read, Then We Write: Emerson on the Creative Process.


Robert D. Richardson on Ralph Waldo Emerson, from First We Read, Then We Write: Emerson on the Creative Process.

1,542 notes
reblogged via clementinevonradics
~ Thursday, July 3 ~



You cannot buy electronics with food stamps. You cannot buy cigarettes with food stamps. You cannot buy pet food with food stamps. You cannot withdraw money with an EBT card (food stamps).

Do you know what else you can’t buy with food stamps? Shampoo, soap, laundry detergent, toilet paper, paper towels, tissues, tinfoil, plastic sandwich bags, toothpaste, cleaning products, tampons, pads, over the counter medications (such as Tylenol, Ibuprofen, etc.), and anything else you can think of that you cannot physically ingest for nutritional purposes.

Do you know what you can buy with food stamps? Food.

Do you know what it’s like to scrounge for change to buy non-edible necessities, use a credit card and EBT card (food stamps) during the same transaction, and then have the person in line behind you judge you for buying the ingredients to make a birthday cake?

People who disseminate false information about food stamps have never had to use food stamps.

Okay, but let’s talk for a second about how that one lady called turkey “big chicken”

I’m sorry.  I know it’s not the point, but that last comment’s been cracking me up for literally the last hour.

(Source: sandandglass)

179,424 notes
reblogged via coelasquid



A look into the experiences of bisexual women who happened to fall in love with men

Graphics by Chris Ritter

Reblogging this again because it’s so important.

This is relevant

66,735 notes
reblogged via tumblrstumblebuttheydontfalldown