top of page

1 poem

by Grace Davis

Grace Davis is a writer and artist born and residing in Baltimore, Maryland. Davis earned a BFA in Interdisciplinary Sculpture at the Maryland Institute College of Art in 2015. Their practice is informed by experiences of trauma and illness, pre-apocalyptic realities, ASMR eroticism, science and spiritual fiction, and concepts of time. Davis has authored and self-published three collections of poetry, the most recent being a collection of poetry and prose entitled Husk (2017). Davis' collection of poetry, J.A.D., received accolades in Baltimore City Paper’s Top Ten Books of 2016. Their writing has appeared in Leste Magazine, Her Library, her walls, and with Talking Book audiobook publishers.


Note: It is recommended to view this piece on desktop due to its unique formatting.

I watched your dying quietly. We both understood why the house was ever occupied. Things there were no room for, things you wanted to keep. All I can think of is our bodies stressed. Upon the body shutting down and the heart stopping, it takes a few minutes for the brain to begin to liquefy and drip out of nose, ears.











                           when person becomes body becomes form becomes spirit becomes angel























          my                               belief                                       in                                           bacteria


                      bees                pollinate           the                 ground flowers


                                 all                    tollbooth         operators         are                sleeping




my love for many is like an undying, multi-faced watch





                                           In My Heaven ———— In Your Heaven

                                                                In dust baths      


                       men sit on their mother’s backs  ground pollen humming


                                    tunnels devoted to scientists                   sleeping toll booths                                                      you can call a friend                                         


                          all shade loving flowers glow in abundance                   

                                                      he says he’s lost his color

bottom of page