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Slice of Life

by

Robert Beveridge

They told us we’d found

the true spirit of grindcore

but all we had were walks

on the beach and the inevitable

fondnesses for horses

and people that led to instant

eliminations on OKCupid. We

replied that there was no

true spirit of grindcore,

or if there was it had lived

in a jungle somewhere

in Uruguay but starved

in 1997. they did not respond

and so we all sat there, eyes

locked across the table, did

not speak even when

the waitress came to take

our orders. we were all served

the tongue on rye special

with extra sauerkraut.

Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Red Coyote Review, Deep South Magazine, and Aromatica Poetica, among others.

Robert Beveridge
Robert Beveridge
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