HOLES

Black holes, 
More holes arise
Your face reversed, a tripwire
Universal effigy, blanket sky of fear
Black holes, blackened tears
In corridors of sunken mirrors
Black holes,
More holes arise
Your face reversed, a tripwire

As you sink into yourself,
The harrowing altar near its tinned denial
Bleeds forth, a faint gospel groaning,
Feebly sowing its half-dripping gourds of 
Dead banquets, questing for loans, 
Boiled and fractally conjoined, icicles of
Ancient guards, umbilical froth
Bursts placards of tired, lost suns
Whipped clean of their ancient morgues:
The bottomed firmaments in the day’s Sickly half-glow

Ripened holes of black,
Denied castellated frequencies,
Unredeemed attics of multiverses seep Disloyal broth,
Animated fugues within horns of rotted Plaster
Wreath the bones of 
Gangrenous gossamer,
As unripe Crowns
Are led down the ladders of gelid stone

They are entombed within spinning gyratory eyes,
To see no further light,
As the black holes eclipse
Themselves
Fully tied

And to your face reversed, a tripwire

More holes arise

Black holes

Black holes arise


Born in Lubbock, Texas in 1984, AG Davis is a sound poet, author, performance artist and composer who resides in Jacksonville, Florida. Davis began his career as a Division I football recruit, having attended West Point for a brief period of time. After dropping out, he earned his degree in English Literature at the University of Florida (2006).

He has written four books of highly experimental poetry, his most recent being published in 2023 through mOnocle-Lash Anti-Press. 
His work often delves into the darker side of the human psyche, exploring the multifaceted realms of psychosis.