Elizabeth Bohnhorst

Elizabeth Bohnhorst's poetry has appeared in The Pinch, Camroc Press Review, Word Riot, The Austin Poetry Anthology, The Dunes Review, and elsewhere. She has a terrible short-term memory and would love advice on how to remedy this.
The Weather

The Secret Language of Eyebrows

Recently, returned with a small Macy’s bag my mother accosts me in the kitchen, removing her wig. She spills the bag’s contents— eyebrow pencils: blonde, brunette, black. “I just didn’t know where to begin?” she laughs.…

The Weather


The dog we took in for a night returns, scampers across town from the abandoned house where we found her, left food, water.   Daily we drive her back, but in morning she’s cowering at our…


Tits of Peculiar and the OCD

One of many reasons my freshman literature students hate poetry is that “it has too many meanings,” can be “whatever you want it to be.” Kids these days like absolution, definition—an answer to life’s persistence that…


Honor Motel

We all dine on this rhetoric from time to time: If I could be somewhere—anywhere—else, everything would be okay. I sit down to a meal of it five times a day. I grow fat from it.…

The Weather

An Act of Elevation

Rare days, I feel like an adult. Take last Friday: I got up at 8 a.m., went to the gym, walked the dog, paid the rent on time, unloaded the dishwasher with NPR’s Morning Edition cooing…

The Weather

Merciful Evening Light

It’s Memorial Day and I, like millions of other American goons, wake up with a bleeding hangover. The afternoon is spent adjusting and readjusting myself on the sofa to accommodate variable nausea and the battle-ax digging…