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Current Issue: Spring/Summer 2011

POEMS

Megan Alpert
See-Through

Ash Bowen
Post-Dated Love Note on the Doomsday Planetary Alignment: 5 May 2000
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Ash Bowen
Jennifer in Space: Brief Notes on Helio-Galactic Lullabies
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Ash Bowen
Jennifer in Space: Ultrasound

George Eklund
Essay in White

George Eklund
When the World is Beautiful

Michael Homolka
revisiting

Michael Homolka
triangle

David Kirby
God Loves You When You Shake That Thing

David Kirby
The Rest of Us Don't Have to Try That Hard

Dorianne Laux
"Music my rampart"

Dorianne Laux
San Diego, 1965

Nathan McClain
The Pier: Santa Monica
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Marc McKee
Surgeon General's Warning
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Marc McKee
Elationship
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Eddy Roberts
Interpolated Steps
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Matthew Siegel
Overlooking the City

Matthew Siegel
On a Body that Changes

Matthew Siegel
I am no longer cutting my hair

Judith Skillman
The Courtyard

Judith Skillman
Displacement

Sara Wallace
Questions I Ask Myself

Sara Wallace
The One Blessed Thing

Charles Harper Webb
In Drought Time

Johnathon Williams
Conversations with Imaginary Women

Johnathon Williams
In My Wife's House

Laura Madeline Wiseman
In The Field


FICTION

Rebecca Warner
Reluctant Vegan


NON-FICTION:
The Writing Room: Places Where Writers Write

Paul Austin
Sometimes I Write at the Cosmic Cantina

Andreana Binder
I Write With Noise

Gary L. McDowell
Before Daddy Walks Through the Door: On Where I Write

Amy Newman
Window

Martha Silano
A Plane/Car/Beach/Zoo/Beach of One's Own


REVIEWS

Sara Eliza Johnson on…
The Captain Asks for a Show of Hands, Nick Flynn

Melanie Jordan on…
Panic, Laura McCullough

Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum on…
Orange Crush, Simone Muench

Leslie Contreras Schwartz on…
The Book of Ten, Susan Wood

Rebecca Wadlinger on…
Fancy Beasts, Alex Lemon

Vivian Wagner on…
God, Seed: Poetry & Art About the Natural World, Rebecca Foust and Loma Stevens

Jennifer in Space: Brief Notes on Helio-Galactic Lullabies 
Ash Bowen

Song after song, it’s become obvious

the sun is not the lone alto
astronomers once believed

but a chorus of atoms breaking
into lullabies.
                              Out there our planets

have been lulled and are falling fast
              asleep. Even our most confident

astronauts aren’t certain of what to expect
               should Earth fail to open

its eyes in time to catch them
                                                            at splashdown.

But Jen, little has changed on Earth
               for us. You still keep to your own

orbit at the end of the hall, sending
                                                          your wishes

to disinterested stars. Should you find
              in your slumber that you’re among those

celestial bodies, sleepwalking—
               that suddenly you’re Jenny-in-Space,

wombed with a child so round
              its orbit startles you from sleep—

call me. I’ll transmit to you
                             the sweetest lullaby

the Earth has never heard.

 

Ash Bowen’s poems have appeared in New England Review, Crab Orchard Review, Black Warrior Review, Rattle, and elsewhere. He is co-managing editor of Linebreak and co-edited Two Weeks: A Digital Anthology of Contemporary Literature, the world's first e-book-only anthology of contemporary poetry. This marks his second appearance in Pebble Lake Review. His manuscript is making the rounds.