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About this poet

Jordan Davis was born in New York in 1970. He attended Columbia College, where he studied under Kenneth Koch and was an editor of the college's paper. He graduated with a BA in English in 1992 while continuing to work as Koch's assistant and editor.

Davis is the author of the poetry collections Shell Game (Edge Books, 2018) and Million Poems Journal (Faux, 2003), as well as several chapbooks. He has also coedited several collections of poetry, including Free Radicals: American Poets Before Their First Books (Subpress, 2004) and The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch (Knopf, 2005). 

From 1992 to 1994, Davis served as editor of the Poetry Project Newsletter. In 1995, he became host and curator of the Poetry City reading series. He was also an editor for Teachers and Writers Collaborative for several years, and in 1999, he founded the literary journal The Hat with a Teachers and Writers colleague, Chris Edgar. From 2010 to 2012, he served as the poetry editor of The Nation, and he has written about poetry for PaperSlateThe Village Voice, and Constant Critic, among other publications.

Davis lives and works in New York City.


Bibliography

Shell Game (Edge Books, 2018)
Million Poems Journal (Faux, 2003)

Toothpaste Kids Sunburn

I tell you I will not make any more raids,
The elusive going-elsewhere motherboard 

An electrical sound marking stretches 
Afternoon is carving into the wood of us,

That's our modern way of saline allegory—
To make gods of times of day. I won't 

Cooperate with this love that steals itself 
Into a brand name, preferring to abandon 

Like feathers or a rocket stage the moves 
Traffic up till now couldn't touch. That's me,

That warm breath dying on the neck,
The only chain they couldn't save in the fire 

Everybody but the Buddha called  
A day at the beach.

Copyright © 2011 by Jordan Davis. Used with permission by the author.

Copyright © 2011 by Jordan Davis. Used with permission by the author.

Jordan Davis

Jordan Davis

Born in 1970, Jordan Davis is the author of a poetry collection and many reviews and essays about poetry

by this poet

poem
The gnats love the highway dividers, 
the freelance pickup artists love the softness of the hands 
of the women who love their friends
for walking with them laughing at the situation, 
lost people love that I am sitting here looking likely to know, 
I love it when I know, knowledge in the form of radar 
loves
poem
When I am sitting at my desk and I have feelings
It is like I am the lone passenger in a little boat
On a sunny windy day.  When we are lying down
And we have good feelings it is a speedboat skipping
Like a stone among the islands I feel we’re in.
When we are sitting in bed at five a.m. talking the light
On I
poem

My father taught me how to play the beer bottle. It was Schlitz, and I was three or four. "You tuck your lower lip under, then blow air over the top of the bottle." I produced a tone, and we laughed. He paused. "You can make a different sound if there's less in the bottle," he said, motioning for me to take a sip.