Or
James Davis | Poetry
“the heraldic color gold” – The Official SCRABBLE Players Dictionary
To love and to cherish, to have and to hold. Or
something about the weather. The common cold. Or
argent: a moon-white field, flapping. You’re in the clear
as soon as you surrender. Do as you’re told—or
what? How can we talk about sex when we can’t talk
during sex? Potent as Tetris, bodies pulled or
cajoled into the gules. The nose knows love’s tincture
stinks the same as war’s. With a jack-high, I fold or
go all in. I want my heart’s proper purpure
muscle as my charge. I want to be big, bold, or
part of your complete breakfast, weeping my colors
into your milk. To convert is to be sold, or
made green, by a story, the Bayeux Tapestry
as one big Fruit by the Foot. To get Rick-Rolled or
trolled by Roland. No shortage of ways to hatch
our plot, to make the crusader a cuckold. Or
our arms were briefly joined. We shared a pale, is all.
Now it’s gone. All that’s left is a band of gold. Or…
James Davis is the author of the poetry collection Club Q (Waywiser 2020), which won the Anthony Hecht Prize. His poetry has been featured on NBC News and CBC Radio, as well as in journals such as the Gettysburg Review, Copper Nickel, 32 Poems, Bennington Review, and The Gay & Lesbian Review. A PhD candidate at the University of North Texas, he serves as Poetry Editor for American Literary Review and teaches literature and creative writing.