Description

“How do you live / on Saturdays / at the end / of the world?” What an uncompromising wonder, this book. Too Much refuses to be anything but an excess of tender imagination in a world that demands 24/7 capitalist productivity and appropriation. These poems are rigorously messy, obeying an inner calendar of an “alien boyfriend / playing alien guitar,” then disobeying that, too. Gion Davis’s work makes me deeply giddy, giddily alive.

— Chen Chen, author of When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities

Gion Davis splays apart the Too Much in everything they see—America, precarity, connection and care. Davis— inhabiting cowboys, skate punks, and the planets themselves— transfigures their targets, conjuring weird catharsis and making the grandiose immediate. A dollop of oatmeal morphs to a pearl; a scrunchie becomes orificial; desserts decapitate while horses fire up their cellphones. With the eerie delicacy of snowed-down wildfire ash, Davis revels in what’s myth and what’s real, what’s timeless and what can only be found in glimpses of a clear memory.

— Sadie Dupuis, author of Mouthguard

I like this work. These poems are a little wild and awkward and disrespectful. It’s like a coloring book filled in (weirdly) because of course an adult is doing it & that is a life.

— Eileen Myles, author of For Now