Tribalism, supervisors, sheriffs, bullies, sex, suicide, dead prisoners, drugs, porn, middle school, and Jesus. Poems. 

The King of FU

Benjamin Davis (he/him) has stories and poems in several literary journals, including Booth, Wigleaf, Moon City Press, Softblow, and Slippery Elm Press. His poem collection, The King of FU (Nada Blank, 2018), was such a smashing success it shocked the indie press who printed it into an early grave. He is now writing his first six novels. Find him on his website: daviscommabenjamin.com


Ben's Bio

One story, one artwork every day for a year. "Oh! Take a shit, read a story." – My Mother on flash fiction

Flash 365

Dear Wigleaf

What Are You Wearing Right Now? (Outfit of Four Prose Poems)

The Last Cinnamon Raisin Bagel

What Are You Wearing Right Now? (An Outfit of Four Poems)

What Happened When Frank Fell in the Forest

What Happened Outside the 2nd Story Window of Mokhovaya Ulitsa 32

What Frank Found Down By the Sea Shore

What Frank Saw When He Looked Between His Legs

All Dogs (And Frank) Go To Heaven

Because Frank Could Not Stop for Death She Kindly Stopped for Him

What Happened When Frank Stopped Dancing

When Frank Went for a Walk in the Wood

Why Frank Ate Brains for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

Why Frank Went Searching for a Towel

How Frank Learned To Fight for the Gods

What Happened When Frank Learned to Count

What Frank Had to Say to God Almighty

Why Frank Gave the Universe a Bone

Why Frank Took a Bath in Hell

Why Frank Demanded a Refund

What Happened When Frank Lived (Again)

What Frank Found in the Field

How Frank Became Meat

When Frank Met a True Believer

How Frank Learned to Forgive

My Father the 600 Pound Man Wants to Be Called Bruce Now

Crying at the Russian Ballet

Contemplating My Bisexuality While Gettin’ Swole

That Time I Got Illegal Butt Surgery in Russia

Invest In Braille

I was thirty years old. I had money. It moved around me. It didn’t grow as I wanted it to, but it didn’t run away from me like it used to. I could afford a car, an apartment, and an assortment of smart gadgets.

No One Can Figure Out Why John Fed Himself to a Bear

My 6 Step No B.S. Guide to Submitting Short Stories to Lit Mags

Is My Writing Ready To Submit?

Donald Trump and the No Good Very Bad Pandemic

Nobody Likes A Turkey

A Brief History of Ikea

Chopsticks in Chinese Restaurants

The Domovoi

Mr. Sandman

Are Cats the Dominant Life Form On Earth

Basement Blues

We were in the shower when two magic goldfish fell out of the ceiling, plunging right through my eyes, and began to sink; as they were sinking they drowned, and as they were drowning, they screamed, and the screaming sounded like a song

ORGASM

After losing my job, I moved home and attended my cousin’s wedding. The morning of, someone asked where Grandma was. I said I’d find her. I went outside and there she was wandering around the parking lot—small, curly white hair, wrinkle-eaten face.



Coping with Unemployment While My Grandmother Is Dying

I used to run around willy-nilly and use words like willy-nilly. I was a kid living in the countryside. Then, five years ago, I moved to a city, then another and another. Now, I’m back. This isn’t so bad, I think, making my way along.

How To Wave At Strangers In Cars

Dan and I sat at a small table outside a café in some unfindable alley of the city, talking about how long it would take you to get bored if walking out of this alley simply spat you back in through the other end.

Forty Cents Worth of a Story

Huggerlovers

As a kid, I couldn’t have predicted how our relationship would evolve. My father and I didn’t get along. He had a temper. Then my mom divorced him, he calmed down, and so I wanted to get him something nice for Christmas: An Amazon Echo Plus.

His name was Eam. Reality shot him in slow motion. He worked in Spain, Salamanca, a bar called ‘El Submarino,’ the second bar, up the stairs. When he snapped open a beer, it took a minute. When he mixed a drink, it took ten.

Slow Motion Man

I don’t know what happened. Y walked into the apartment one day after work and said, “Thimbleduckery flig bup.” “What?” I asked. She frowned at me and said, “Trefflewiggle.” It might have been a question, so I shrugged. We went to bed. 

Oonglefubblejimp

Where I spent much of my time as a kid was a magical place. It was a pirate ship. It was a castle. It was a barracks and a spacecraft. But mostly, it was a rock. I’m sitting on it now, smoking a cigarette. It feels like a rock.

Kids These Days

We are the most beautiful women in the world. They, these men from the city, they came for us. Well, not for us. They came for her. But they settled for us: her skin, her hair, her lips, her nose, her blood, guts, and fuckable warm flesh.

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World

I was beginning to get very tired of sitting secluded in South Korea and having nothing to do and was considering in my own mind (as well as I could, for the hot day made me feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of going down...

Expatriating Down a Rabbit Hole

Harold was a wolf. He knocked. He hated straw houses. They got in his fur. They made him sneeze. He sneezed. “Calm down, calm down, no need for all that,” Fredrick said, opening the door.

Houses of Straw

I’d been living the same day over and over for nine hundred and forty-one days before I finally turned to my co-worker and said, “Hey, Kevin, I have been living the same day over and over for nine hundred and forty-one days.” 


Inside the Last Cinnamon Raisin Bagel

They’ve decided it would be best to save money by fostering a more technology-focused learning environment. I could care less, but Ms. Frizzle was pissed.

Frazzled Ms. Frizzle and Her Magic Fucking School Bus & 2 More Stories

Everyone knows the story of the tortoise and the hare, but few know what happened that day between the fox and the bear. 

The Fox and the Bear

It was Dostoevsky or Nabokov, or some other -ski or -kov, or maybe a -lov or -kin that coined the canals of Saint Petersburg veins and, if they were right, Saint Petersburg is dead, frozen solid.

Teacup

The Uninvited Guests is an illustrated series published by Slippery Elm Press. The Domovi (Three Drops Press: Issue 27), Time Traveler, Death, Sandman (Three Drops Press: Issue 29), and Amber. *Finalist in the Deanna Tulley Multimedia Contest 2020

The Uninvited Guests

I couldn't spell my own name—so, there was no chance in hell I was going to be able to spell Rachael—with the a's and the e's and the ae or was it ea's? It addled my six-year-old-love-struck-brain. 

Lovedumb Struck & Three Other Poems 

I stepped out for a cigarette this morning and an old Korean woman, clutching a gray and white Shih Tzu, stumbled into me, wild hair, mask askew, eyes in a panic, stomping the ground with one foot and hissing Korean

Three Prose Poems That Might Be About Cats

My spirit animal is a weighted blanket. When people ask me, I tell them something cool like, Leopard, Giraffe, or Elephant, but I think: weighted blanket. Before they invented weighted blankets, my spirit animal was pasta water.

Three Poems Sponsored By My Seasonal Depression

We lay down to watch a movie. My arm falls under her. She fall asleeps. I look over at my arm and think: Oh no. What if I get an itch on my wrist? What if my arm falls asleep? A cramp? What if the dog has to pee? Or I have to pee?

Benjamin Davis

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