Jerrod E. Bohn

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I took a note out of the box. I read
its music. Between the bars between
pints glowed neons humming budding
light the note’s corners & clefs
avenues beating out flooded tempos
burning in trash cans to keep warm. To
keep time I folded the note & pressed
my lips to its creases. I blew I blew
until sky blued out stars the deepest
nightscar its own erasure I got
toneblown this note this. Walking home
I strung guts of cat-face forget-me-
knotted between wordpegs I didn’t
tune I didn’t read just smashed the note
gathered its timbre its vibrations’ kindling
burned. I warmed my hands to blue

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cloisters by candlelight dreaming about
manuscripts illuminated so as to tell a story
that’s just the chatter of crickets. I forgot
to open my notebook. I fit my body
against the walls & try to write as if
by cramping spaces I might compress
creation-marrow into my fingertips.
Whirrs of moonlight. Won’t you read
how my father used to not from books
his narrative in the land & told in ruffling
my hair. I’m not compact enough in this
space the shower comes closest my elbow
underneath my knee—two joints align.
The perfect poem. Mute stasis. Wind
can’t breach the bathroom door. I shave
my head & write like flintrock the hills

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expanses dear exist to fool the tongue. I don’t
know why I still use these terms it’s been
one year & I can’t picture your hip
jutting into the mattress can’t know
if we ever made love while candles cool
Saturdays. Dear I mean I must stop
inventing fishnets & knee-high boots
the arched sentence from neck-nape
to inner thigh. I must stop pondering
duplicitous acts of looking not knowing
the name of if it’s my face I did not
remember going to bed crusted eyes. I
didn’t mean I just meant dear I am scaring
you meaning to teach consequence
a gaze. The constant eye inhabits your spine
when it leaves heat breathes the collar. You
will find me there shared tongues parch
languages dear. You don’t have to

Author Portrait

Jerrod E. Bohn's work has appeared in Phoebe, FRiGG, SPECs, Souvenir, Word For/Word, The Montreal Review and several other publications. He currently resides in Fort Collins, Colorado, where he teaches yoga in the English Department at Colorado State University, and works at Cranknstein, a bicycle shop / coffee shop / beer bar.