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      October 22, 2008SterileAsh Bowen

      Your sister can’t stop hurting when she sees children
      laughing. They coil in her dreams, knees raised
      to their stomachs, feet stamping their rhythms.
      She’s reminded of high school, how she pulled up
      her dress in loneliness and a man laughed at her.
      But never mind that. Her husband has his gun
      collection out. He can’t stop pointing and clicking
      the trigger at the open window. But the birds
      won’t die. They flutter away, startled by the pitch
      of his voice. They land on the fence
      of the city swimming pool. There the children run
      off the diving board, ducking invisible bullets.

      from #25 - Summer 2006

      Ash Bowen

      “A little over a year ago, I was all set to enter medical school when I found Jack Heflin’s poem, ‘Cat Scan,’ on the internet. After I read it, I sat down at the computer and made my first serious attempt at a poem. After that day, going to med school just seemed like a waste of time.”

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