I’m looking in from the road on a misty night at the Cape house I grew up in. It's half past five in the morning. The ancient white farmhouse, nearly as old as the country itself, stands renovated by its new owners. I can see the glow of the kitchen windows on the tall … Continue reading A Dreaming at the Tulip Hotel
Back home, my room is on the first floor, off the passageway to the Great Hall. Its not really mine any more though- its now on the market. It was listed after Avalon sold, which was a little after my grandfather died. That was when the Green Knight came to call, and Tristan and Isolde … Continue reading The Green Knight
There were black flies buzzing about my head, when I looked up from my book, and saw my old friend walking by. You and I gave each other a nod of recognition. I had't seen you in a few months, and I'd really been hoping we could avoid any more close encounters- now that we … Continue reading Hirō Onoda
I’ve seen you in recently taken pictures. The niceties of souvenir t-shirts, under the sun of the south. Fuck me, maybe you’ll soon have two of your own. But for the moment, I'm sure they're close enough. For them, you stand near the back with a smile. When they grow up, they’ll remember you, and … Continue reading The Principle of Distinction
In my last days as a student in Dublin Ireland, I took the early morning train to the city of Belfast. Though I was curious about the site of the tumultuous Troubles, and to see how a quarter of a country functions under a separate government, I will admit I made the trip because of … Continue reading H & W Yard Numbers 400 and 401
Take to your holds, your windswept hovels and your ships quarters. Below deck, down the old oak folding ladder with speed, and nearly run right into the center table where we ate dinner, built by my grandfather, suspended on a clever balance, like the stove, and the lanterns dry of oil. Take to your headaches … Continue reading Arthur Kill Ship Graveyard
It was 11:15 at night, fifteen minutes past visiting hours, but the guard at the front desk let me in anyway. I’d been on the road for three and a half hour. In half an hour I would be over the Bourne Bridge and home back on Cape Cod. But I stopped just before the … Continue reading Job 19:25
From this vantage, I see you of so missed childhoods, of the white canvas sails of Wild Harbor's rocking vessels. You would have painted her with watercolor on thick paper, and I with my pencil. Where the Knob extends out onto the sea, it is covered only by the sky and the flickering trail of … Continue reading To a Man With a Pipe, Unused for Years
Ryan Shockey Davis 