(Today we begin three days of poetry by Robert Beveridge, with two fine efforts. We hope the readers enjoy them as much as we do–The Eds.)
Client
He considered somnambulance
as a way to attract attention
but his priest counselled
against its dangers
in a mountainous region.
Instead, he projects himself,
possesses the bodies
of orange marmosets.
Robert Beveridge
Dow Saah (“Sweet Bean Paste”)
Steam rises as the buns
firm up. Lamplight
flickers over the pages
of the old cookbook,
the next page perhaps
a recipe for fish, tofu,
breast of longpig.
The scratches at the door
intensify. The buns
are almost ready. Blow
out the lamp.
Robert Beveridge
(header provided by DWB)
Saragun Springs 
The manner and style in which these verses were written suggest that more is going on than meets the eye. It’s a good feeling. The fact that I cannot pin it down shows why I am not a (successful) poet. An editor once said of my poetry: it’s prose with line breaks. Robert Beveridge’s verses are so much more than that.
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Welcome to the site, Robert.
Thak you for the fanciful verse. It flows and creates colorful images in the mind.
Leila
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Wow! I was going to say these are gentle and moving. Then I looked up “longpig.” Excellent.
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