Contributor: Robert Beveridge

- -
manacled hands take
the skull from the pit; cop digs
where he points next

* * *

I raise the silent
bottle the sad river flows
behind your green eyes

* * *

leaves fall
your poems written
between their veins

* * *

hunger
burning pain
dead dog

* * *

flash of brilliant light
catches lovers in the act
cop knows her father

* * *

eighty-four steps
in fallen leaves: beyond
the electric chair

* * *

dirty needles freeze
clink against solid sand
winter in Jersey

* * *

clock hands spin, the wait
for a message slow to come,
maybe never does

* * *

all tools have two sides
hammers can shatter but they
can also fasten

* * *

car's back seat, tinted
windows afford minimal
privacy...don't care

* * *

back against the wall
head bowed in supplication
one more day in wait

* * *

blonde waterfall
your spring spray draws me
I douse myself


- - -
Robert Beveridge
makes noise and writes poetry
Akron, Ohio