Stephen Miller Drinks His Morning Coffee
That damn barista,
Kyle, or whatever
he said his name was,
put oat milk in it
instead of two percent
he makes a mental
note to have Kyle,
or whatever he said
his name was, disappeared
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry on unceded Mingo land (Akron, OH). He published his first poem in a non-vanity/non-school publication in November 1988, and it’s been all downhill since. Recent/upcoming appearances in Chiron Review, Al Dente, and Coin-Operated Press‘ Hallozine, among others.
The Marbled Sigh 