Christopher Davis – Love

Christopher Davis


Lacking all vocabulary
for softness, democracy,

these wide shoulders trembling
winglessly, this jerk offering

up this fistful of daisies, little
white stallions, bone corral:

one life’s bright sentence,
a coming heaven’s essence.


In a theater of language, jacking
off self, I saw white noise rising.

Laugh that that were laundry,
air around us both a boundary

stuffed with stinks, Hamburger
Helper, patchouli, weed killer,

shadows of phone lines criss-
crossing those leafless twigs.

return to S H A M P O O   13