Poem Beginning with a Line from WC Williams
By far the most authentic detail in the place
is the vault door, its feet-thick steel
and massive cylinders that slide
into holes that wait, patient, ineluc-
table. Sometimes they wait for days;
the vault, on the weekend,
is not locked. Those who work here allow
it to stand open, an invitation
to passersby. They can enter,help themselves, perhaps suffocate.
You Don’t Need a License to Carry an Emu in Ohio
countered on a daybed
awake in jam.
we prefer our birds
harvest the napless,
feed them vistaril
to repair the issue,
introduce the resolution.
you never know.
the diet might be asleep
in the antechamber
after a tryptophan easter.
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Monterey Poetry Review, Creatrix, and Redheaded Stepchild, among others.