Issue 16 winter 2010


Retrival by Chris Novak

riverbabble 16

Winter Solstice Issue


Contributing Writers
Fiction
Dominique Brigham:    Lightning Bug Messiah

J. D. Daniels:    Damnest Thing I Ever Saw

Amy Cheung:    West, West, and Away

Ashley Brand:    November

Don Fredd:    The Thing Is

Jon Sindell:    Woodsmen



Poetry
Rafael Jesús González:
           Luna del año viejo / Moon of the Old Year
           Luna azul al fin del año / Blue Moon at Year's End
           Siendo honrado por la ciudad /On Being Honored by the City
           Obsesión lunática / Lunatic Obsession
           Riverbabble Talks with Rafael Jesús González (reprint from #12)
           Rafael Jesús González accepts Proclamation in Berkeley (video)

Laura McCullough:
           Certitude and Exposure
           Stamina
           Wind and Water, the Drowning

Julene Tripp Weaver:
           The Blues
          Snared

Ann Walters:
           After the Moon Falls
          Ansel Adams Takes Another Look at the Sun

Phibby Venable:
           John Dean
          Wickerworker

Charles Clifford Brooks III:
           A Final Autumn Evening
           Lunar Love's Wanting

M. N. Kotzin:
           Lip Reading
           Two Postcards

Jim Lyle:    Full Moon

Suzanne Nielsen:    Placing of a Candle

Jason Price Everett:   Sea of Rains

Paul Lobo Portugés:   The Woman in the Moon

David Brewer:    The Sun Dial

Marcus Christensen:    Arriving at Truth Through Papier-maché Analysis

Katelynn Greene:   Sunrise Resolution on Camelback Mountain

Doug Mathewson:   Station to Station

Flash Fiction

Francine Witte:   Moon Story

Rich Ives:
           Detritus
           Crying the Mare


Review


Carlos Reyes:   Comentario /Comentary: La musa lunática / The Lunatic Muse

Photography

Christopher Novak:   Retrival

She slipped a hand into her kerchief pocket and took out the wadding and waved in reply of course without letting him and then slipped it back. Wonder if he' too far to. She rose. Was it goodbye? No. She had to go but they would meet again, there, and she would dream of that till then, tomorow, of her dream of yester eve. She drew herself up to her full height. Their souls met in a last lingering glance and the eyes that reached her heart, full of a strange shinning, hung enraptured on her sweet flowerlike face.
                                 JAMES JOYCE, Ulysses, p. 301., 13/757-765


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