Bøker av Jerrod E Bohn

What is the love poem's function? Does it eternally preserve the beloved as they actually are, or does it warp and suffocate them, locking them inside stanzas and lines from which they will never escape? In Ventric(L)e, Jerrod E. Bohn dissects the heart's labyrinthine structure. The organ is an intricate house, full of delight, surprise, and possibility; however, its chambers are also walled, barred. The heart is equally a cage. What began as a series of love poems took a turn with the relationship's erosion. Are the poems themselves at fault? Did the page become the prison from which the beloved struggled to break free, and when they couldn't, did it hasten the physical act of leaving? And what remains behind when the beloved is gone? Are they still entrapped even when another comes along? Through meditations dense with sorrow and hope, the sacred and the profane, Bohn explores the love poem's power to both create and destroy.

Pulp: A Manifesto is a lyrical poetry collection by Jerrod E. Bohn. Let's play hopscotch over your pill-bottles. I don't care if you're menstruating. That loose little one in the corner needs screwed, or a table w/ three legs will have to do. Swill-bucket; you read contemporary poets by the fish ton. The "Voice of My Generation's" face tattooed on your ass, & that scares me b/c once in Mexico I dreamed I was this black kid named Larry Lazarus. I wanted to break the Voice's glasses, the Voice who orated every proto-millennial's Sunday morning jazz & shizzle. Privilege is knowingly eating the last butterscotch sea salt caramel one last time. That's why Larry, a captive audience, wanted to punch the Voice in the larynx, which would have lost us another generation.