Robert Beveridge


Think of the river as a device
of expulsion. Simple attendance,
water to your thighs, is not enough.
Plunge. Lie horizontal. Open
your mouth. Let the water
into and through you.
Let it run through your hair
like a lover's fingers, chill
your belly, your throat. The wolves
cannot get you here.

Author Portrait

Robert Beveridge makes noise ( and writes poetry just outside Cleveland, Ohio. Recent/upcoming appearances in Survision, Loud Zoo, and Ghostlight, among others.