Jeremy Gregersen

in the fall of my freshman year at utah i ditched two days  

of classes to follow a band called phish to lincoln 880 miles

& 10000 dirty souls milling about a parking lot at noon the

town barely knew what it was witnessing yall in town for

the game asked the man at the store called u stop beer pop

ice & we laughed a cornhusker game so far from our plans

we bought mushrooms off a guy hocking cold veggie

burritos beneath the modernist murals of pershing

auditorium & ate them waiting on the floor for the band

to begin & some guy who was i think from colorado was

cutting blotter nearby we took two hits of that as well

oblivious to what it might do things took hold in the second

set when parker started screeching about sinister beasts

falling from the ceiling & i saw them too & the band was

covering highway to hell as we fled into a quiet nebraska

night that swallowed us with terrors i still see sometimes at

sleepless dawn beyond my arm flung round parkers


Jeremy Gregersen is a graduate of the Universities of Utah (BA), Michigan (MFA), and Oregon (MA). His work has appeared in a wide variety of journals, including The Maine Review, Cimarron Review, Poet Lore, Juked, Cortland Review, and Michigan Quarterly Review. He lives in Las Vegas, Nevada with his wife and two sons, and works as Head of School at The Meadows School.