is a poet with an eye towards the spiritual. These three poems come from a series loosely related to Davis' upbringing in the back-room of a record store in Mormonville, Utah, and this unexpected fusion becomes a "spontaneous combustion" of matter turning into energy. Through these poems we encounter Jesus, Judas, YouTube, Joseph Smith, Hollywood, the Knights of Templar, Missouri, Utah, a prostitute, turnips, libraries, and God. Spirituality and faith eventually become, like Mallarmé's "Dice Thrown," a game of chance: "I know only chance. My feet will / won’t hit ground." Instead of choosing a faith based in the material world, which becomes a roll of the dice, Davis embraces the non-material of a pure energy: "Let there be light.
"Ren continued, 'There may not be any reason for them to ever meet.' And with such an able conduit of information between the two artists, he may be right. Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees and True to Life not only describe the process of art making, but the process of communicating about and experiencing the world. They read as roadmaps of the evolution of the act of being, and it seems that when the travelers live as willfully and truthfully as Robert Irwin, David Hockney, and Lawrence Weschler, life and art cease to imitate each other. They simply converge."