Collective Unrest

 

Stoat

December 6, 2019

It’s not the tongue
you think about at such times
but the dialect,
how “drool” and “savor” sound
pushed against the roof
of the mouth, the wall
of the alley


 

Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in The Virginia Normal, Credo Espoir, and Chiron Review, among others.

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