I’m in love with a homeless girl
who carved a cave into the World s
he crawled out all covered in blood
and dripped red seeds into the mud


Shut up, shut up, shut up already
with the temple-talk you’re freaking me out

With the dirty purity

Back at first I bought it all
and then I fought it all
Finally, I forgot it all
but I’m not done not at all

It’s cryptic clarity

Would I, would I, would I scatter
if I just admit I’m already dead
Should it, should it, should it matter
that my mind won’t fit back in my head

Dirty purity dirty purity

Nothing moves and something switches
question marks and crucifixes

Odd how it was only eyelids
that kept me blinded from the light
in open obscurity

in the dirty purity

shadow over everything I dream as the “other”
shining back as everything when dreaming is over



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In the Press

Razor-sharp improv. Lurking amid the minutiae of his observations on life and the Universe are some startling insights. Davis pulls off the most elusive of party tricks...Even the gods were grinning.

-Irish Times, Dublin Ireland