Yesterday called to see if
honesty was lonely and wanted company,
absolute in feeling late
when playing concerts
of human interaction,
so much on pause, so much acute
ability with a passing stranger,
loaded with everything we carry and shoulder for a long time to come,
nervous impact on levels we can’t
possibly begin to understand.
Eric Evans is a writer from Rochester, New York. His work has appeared in Second Chance Lit, Steel Bellow,DecadesReview, Dead Snakes, Red River Review, and many other publications. He has published ten collections through his small press, Ink Publications. He is also the co-editor of The Bond Street Review.