40 YEARS OF CUTBANK: "Lights Out" by Adam O. Davis


From CutBank 74

Lights Out


The fuse box


is a medicine-

bank, an ark

of home remedies.

The buttons crumble


like aspirin, taste

like tonic water

washed down with lime.

I feel altogether


brisk, bundled in

nerves that won’t

quiet—it’s a question

of pacing and I’m having


trouble with your protons.

Our bodies blink

like traffic lights. Green

for go. Red to falter.


Yellow, I forget.



Adam O. Davis' work has appeared in many journals, including Boston Review, Denver Quarterly, The Paris Review, Oxford Poetry, and The Southern Review. His manuscript, Index of Haunted Houses, has been a finalist for publication by Barrow Street, Salt Publishing, and Tupelo Press. He lives in San Diego and can be found at www.adamodavis.com.