THIS BALUSTRADE IS MADE FROM AT LEAST 10% RECYCLED MATERIAL
Robert Beveridge
“I read an article”, you said—
no, it was “this”, as in “I read
this article about how our seafood
is mislabeled.” I looked down
at what they had claimed haddock,
imagined it giant gar. We were
taking a break from the day's
activity: accost passersby, convince
them to sign a presented petition
to make calamari a religion, tax-
exempt status and all. We'd tried
to find a catchy slogan, but there
is no way to combine “capital gains”
and “squid” memorably.
The haddock,
if it was a haddock, stared back.
“After lunch,” you said, “we'll cross
the bridge. More seafood-eaters
there. They're used to deception.”
Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, Ohio. He spends his time sourcing sketchy seafood for underground chefs and agitating to have ketchup taken off the official list of vegetables. 2018 is the thirtieth anniversary of his first publication in a national magazine. He has recent and upcoming appearances in Savant-Garde, Other People's Flowers, and The Indiana Horror Review, among others.