I met Grandfather at a Taiwanese bookstore.

For some reason,
We were the only ones staring
At the decrepit
Poetry section
In this, brand new
Four-story library.

He was grinning as if
The teeth in his mouth
Was real again.

And I couldn't help but
Smile with him too, this
Old man

Who stuck his hands in
His pockets and slouched
Over books just like
I once did.

Who couldn't speak a word of
English, but who

Over and over again muttered
The name "Auden,"
As to signal to me

That he knew exactly what
Was going on here.

Nodded vigorously at me—
Told me he'd met him once, before.
In a book.
Probably in Cantonese—
I wonder how it sounded to him?

I wonder how I sounded?
Peering over him
Like a sprightlier shadow,
Also muttering to himself
"Auden, Auden,"

As if trying to remember.

I think,
When I grow up,
I would like to be
An old man someday.

In short: you're a protist.

©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis

I've never had a home
that felt like one,
more than the home I
feel when you put your
arms around my waist,
when you kiss my neck
and when you whisper
my name into my ear.

I've been told
that I'm built like a fencepost
Kind of wiry
A few knobs here and there
A knot or two for character
I make a pretty good fence
Good at keeping things inside
Not letting things out
But now my shadow seems leaner
Not quite as tall in the morning sun
The soil around my feet eroding
Drying out isn't all it's cracked up to be
Staying straight ain't easy
The herd is getting restless
And the barbed wire on my back
is tearing me up inside.

r ~ 7/25/14

free internet 24-hour
Johnny Cash radio station
-all day long
the general listens-
plasma tv on the wall
silent bombs in Gaza
orange blossom specials
-they need plasma, don't they-
burn, burn, burn
-Cry, Cry, Cry-

r ~ 7/29/14

I left and ran away
I never looked back
I just kept on going
and I made this all up
I didn't do any of that
I said, I made it all up

But in the same way
My mind made it up
exactly the way I wanted it to be

I wanted it to hurt just a little
and I wanted it to be wonderful

I wanted you to kiss me goodbye
and you did

And just like that I wasn't making it up anymore
I was running from it all
But not because I despised it

I ran away to do nothing and everything
at different times

I ended up by myself
Watching some water waver
Between two rocks

Some fish played in the that spot
It was beautiful
And that meant way more to me than just water

I know the smell of everyone I've ever loved
wanted
hated
lusted
snorted like a dying drug addicts last meal

My first smelt of deities
a mens deodorant for a boy
who didn't know what he
wanted, but he knew what
he should.
He was sharp, uncertain, his
natural scent masked by an
advert.

My second smelt of fields
the earth was his roll-on
and though he'd mask it in
the oils of men, I knew he
smell of a hearth, hormones
and her heart on his sleeve.
His scent was primal and I
bathed in it's rawness.

My third smells of fire
whatever he's burning,
midnight oil, stress,
nicotine, I can sense it
soaked into his skin with
sweat. Encased in fire,
I suffocate on air nowadays.
He reeks of home, lust, longing

and hope.

You small green shining ball
Sweet or sour will you be?
If I eat you, will you make me tall?
To bring the moon beneath my feet!
If I leave you will you hate my soul?
And throw my love to dark eternity?