James Davis May: Out Too Far
His wife, he’ll find out later, is worried
he hates them. How to tell her
that he sometimes doesn’t know how
he’s ended up in bed?
May 17, 2023 · 10 Comments
James Davis May: Portuguese Man-of-War
Look at this one,
its sail translucent, its inky tentacles
taut as a line of verse. After the thing dies,
they go on, stinging whatever touches them.
April 6, 2023 · 6 Comments
James Davis May: Moonflowers
We praise the world by making
others see what we see. So now she points and feels
what must be pride when the bloom unlocks itself
from itself. And then she turns to look at me.
March 23, 2023 · 9 Comments
James Davis May: Hot Sex
she asks him,
resigned panic in her voice, Did you
slice one of those serranos into the guac?
February 14, 2023 · 17 Comments
