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Gion Davis is a poet from northern New Mexico where she grew up on a sheep ranch. Her poetry has been featured in Bad Nudes Magazine and she has received the 2018 Best New Poets Prize selected by Ocean Vuong. She is the co-founder and co-host of Dead Bird Reading Series and she currently lives in Northampton, MA, where she is seeking her MFA in Poetry at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Gion can be found on Instagram @starkstateofmind.

This poem was shortlisted for the 2018 Peach Gold in Poetry with guest judge Morgan Parker.

1 poem

by Gion Davis

Whatever’s left


The guy I’m seeing

is telling me

how cute

my cunt is,

like, compared

to other cunts

he’s seen mine

is the cutest and

I have no idea

what that means

lurching up out

of a skylight

onto a slanted roof,

careening into some

stranger’s balcony,

kicking over their

potted plants like

a bad cat in the dark,

laughing. Still drunk

at 7am I get

outside I run

until I throw up

in someone’s yard

full of plastic

furniture. I run home.

It’s summer.

I stalk my fuck

buddy to a party

and tell everyone

what a coincidence

it is we’re both

there. Some people

I don’t know

telling us all

to take our shirts

off because it’s

a pool party. Where’s

the pool? There isn’t one

it’s a pool party. Okay.

Fuck buddy does coke

off a paper plate

with a white woman

in a head wrap.

He pretends not

to see me. I sit on a huge

inflatable unicorn

pool toy and cry.

The morning after

I was assaulted

in high school,

I caught my boyfriend’s

hangover vomit

in a bowl. I cleaned

his parents’ condo

in the ski valley

we were staying at

that weekend. One

of his friends had barfed

under a coat rack

on the sand colored

carpet. Before

he fucked me, he

whacked me

across the face. I

bled all over the bed.

I’d been embarrassed

about being on my period.

They cared about my

black eye. Later,

he said it was an

accident. It was winter.

We all woke up naked.

I threw away every beer

bottle, washed the sheets,

the dishes, the boyfriend.

I told my dad I’d fallen

on a jump in the

terrain park. That much

was true. I tried

to tell my friend Anna

what really happened

but her dad was dying

and she said

I can’t believe

you didn’t invite me,

you just wanted

to be the only girl there.

I guess that was true too.

Smoking on a bar patio

I tell the guy I’m sleeping

with about high school

and he says you still drink,

does that mean

you’ve moved on?

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