Posts tagged ‘Nature’

Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”

Oozing with insecurity
I couldn’t live in the moment,
Couldn’t embrace my own divinity

I burst into tears
When he compared me to a statue at the Louvre.

Louvre.jpg

July 4, 2017 at 12:15 am Leave a comment

Double Back Flip on Crappy Diving Board with Torn Meniscus

“Me doing a double back flip with a torn [meniscus] on a crappy diving board at Turner Falls in Oklahoma.”

-Alex Davis, July 28, 2008

June 22, 2015 at 8:22 pm Leave a comment

Excerpt from “Who Wants to Marry a Savant?”

When she sat “Indian-style” in front of me, I realized she wasn’t wearing anything under her orange sun dress.  I also noticed she didn’t shave like I did.  Months later, Gina Q. would tell me to throw away my razor—at least when it came to “down there.”  She didn’t think it was natural, didn’t think I should look like a twelve-year-old.  I resisted at first, but I quickly came to my senses.  “I want you just as you are,” she would sometimes whisper as she unbuttoned my pants.

When I first met Gina Q., she had cotton candy colored dreadlocks, a cute amount of cleavage, and a slight southern accent.  But it wasn’t until I ran into her at a screening of postmodern feminist pornography/erotica that she really made an impression on me.

August 19, 2010 at 9:46 pm Leave a comment

Lighters Up

Lighters up
like at a Queen concert
if Freddie Mercury were still alive
if you were still alive
singing Bohemian Rhapsody

Mama, just killed a man
a lot like Miss Jones,
I think I just shot her son

I think it just snowed in East Texas
Who knew
memories of you would get me
singing Randy Travis
higher than the pine trees
that grow tall upon the hill

The one in the summer
where we used to smoke pot
I thought, what’s wrong
with this neighborhood?
urban life decay

I look for you everywhere:
in crossword puzzles,
clouds, thin air, Rumble Fish,
katamari damacy, Disneyland, flour bags,
snow, the Aurora Borealis, grocery stores,
dreams, nightmares, everywhere
Wouldn’t you?

Lighter’s up
its flame
cathedral champaign
and my bleeding heart
A most beautiful ruby red.

December 9, 2009 at 6:50 am Leave a comment

I Want Your Jello to Jiggle

I want your cherry

Jello to jiggle like a

Chicago heat wave

May 20, 2009 at 4:03 pm Leave a comment

Happy Birthday, Little Brother

Alex's Tree 2     May 11, 2009May 11, 1986 was the most significant Mother’s Day our parents will ever celebrate. I don’t remember you coming home from the hospital, but I do recall sneaking up to see you in your crib. We fought like wild animals until I went off to college, but unconditional forgiveness followed each of our clashes.

In my absence, we started to grow closer, and I wish we had more time to continue on that meaningful trajectory. Our visit to New York was a blast as you bargained in Chinatown and navigated the subway. People started to ask if we were fraternal twins. I took this as a compliment because everyone I know thinks you’re incredibly handsome. We laugh and sometimes even talk the same. The high-pitched hoot distinguished us in theaters, hallways, and classrooms. I’ve hardly laughed like that, though, since you left. I wish I could, if only just to hear your voice.

Yesterday, I saw the live oak tree planted in your memory. Dad can see it from his office, and there’s plenty of space for its roots and branches to flourish. It will outlive me and my children and my grandchildren, and I like the thought of that. I wish you could have lived to see old age. Maybe I will be fortunate enough to do so.

Your birthday always coincided with my return from college for the summer. When I visited home this weekend, I almost expected you to drive up in your red Civic and talk smack with me. Pluto’s not fat anymore, and we have a brand new toilet upstairs. That’s about all that’s changed since January. Seems strange. It still baffles me that time has the audacity to progress as usual in your absence.

There’s a hole in my heart, but I can’t seem to bleed to death. I feel at once devastated and honored to live the rest of my life in your memory. The dichotomies that often govern our existence are overwhelming. Perhaps, over time, you can help me reconcile the contradictions, loose ends, shades of gray, and injustices within this life.

It’s so difficult to articulate my love for you, and I never had the chance to tell you just how proud I was. Am. I guess that’s because all of those feelings of compassion, fondness, and respect we shared went without saying. I know you knew how much I cared. And for that, above all things, I am endlessly grateful.

Happy Birthday, Alex. The intense sorrow following your death can never compare to the endless joy your life created. Today marks your twenty-third year. And in death, as in life, your gifts continue to arrive.

May 11, 2009 at 7:25 pm 9 comments

Collecting Shells

(written May 2002)

Collecting shells
Some people spend most of their trip to the beach
Doing it
Others, occasionally
The best thing
To do
Is stand right where
The ocean’s brim meets the shore
Each wave
Brings in the new
And replaces the old
Shells
Many options
Limited time
Few worth putting in the bucket
One, in particular
Might catch the eye
But seen hitting
The bottom of the pail
Already has lost
Its luster
The pretty ones are always the broken ones
The plain white,
Complete
Shape, size, color, texture
Smell, taste?
All taken into account
The bar rises
As the collection increases
Carelessness,
Selectivity?
There it is!
It
The
One
Floating, lingering
In the foam
Fluttering, fumbling, tumbling,
Hiding?
Whether or not the imagination’s figment
The Moon speeds up the tide
And on One
The
It
Slides past
With the next wave
Out of reach
Out of dive
Out of mind
Out of sight
So good
That it is missed
Without being experienced

Let’s ignore the
Sandcastles
And plastic shovels,
White tummies,
SPF 30
Sometimes the best ones get away.

April 20, 2009 at 10:39 pm Leave a comment


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