Hostage by Jim Bohen

I understand you’re a writer.
I bet you’ll write about this.

Still shaking.  Ten days now. 
Or is it more?  Doesn’t matter — 
still feels like it’s happening NOW!
Still hear his groan.  Still smell his skin.
Still see him waving his gun around.

Still have trouble going to sleep.
They said that might last quite a while.
Panic attacks — any time, any place.
Are they flashbacks?  Or just dreams?
Why couldn’t I have dreamed all this?

A counselor will be in touch.
We’ll come by tomorrow to take a full 
statement.  You’re safe.  You’re OK. 
Here’s someone to drive you home. 
If you think you need help in getting
to sleep, here’s a prescription you can fill.
Go home now.  Try to rest. 
You’ll feel better in the morning.

Still shaking.
Still see blood in a pool on the ground.
Checked him out like a gawking driver.
Couldn’t resist. 
Watched as they draped him with a sheet.
Corpse pose.

Still shaking.  Panic attacks.
Ten days ago?  That can’t be right.
Feels like he is here right now!

A poet/songwriter from St. Paul, MN, Jim Bohen’s poems have appeared in the Minnesota Daily, Conclave, Cracked Walnut’s “Threshold,” Talking Stick and elsewhere.  He’s been short-listed twice for the international erbacce prize.  Unsolicited Press published his first poetry collection, “I travel in rusting burned-out sedans” (2018), and will publish his second, “The Management has seized control of this book,” in 2024.  Jim and wife Bonnie have two adult children and do daycare for two granddaughters.

Website: jimbohen.weebly.com