Ten Days
My friend, I write to reach you:
It’s the loneliest thing in the world—
waiting to be found.
Days annotate themselves before us,
before we have time to arrive
before we have memorized the
proud trot of
a passing morning.
You are behind my eyes, where I lead my life most of the time—
I watch us walk,
bellies hollow, arms
raised In identical obedience,
the last wash of light bleeding from the sky.
We are animal-bent on this plane
our angst—
a footnote to the dissertation
the entropy
of hours
winking on our lips but
at least we enjoy the moonlight,
the way it trickles down our throats like laughter
We open our mouths for luck and
the sharp crease between us blurs for a little while
We are masters at knocking things over
Written By: Eva Langman
About the Author: Eva has lived and worked in San Francisco since 2002, when she moved from her hometown of New York City for the promise of gold. She learned to love music and poetry through her grandfather, who wrote and composed original songs that they sang together on Russian radio when Eva was little. For the last 12 years, she has been teaching drama and creative writing to young people, who sometimes ask her if she is a “real” adult.
Visual Art Piece Titled “Married to Art” By: Vincent Calvarese
About the Artist: As a writer and visual artist, he found his wings amongst his heroes of Eureka Valley. Using the San Francisco Bay Area as his canvas, he highlights themes of restorative justice in The Final Visit, familial pain in The Flesh of the Father, gun violence in Three Cloves of Garlic, the pharmaceutical crisis in The Clipboard and the gentrifying 7×7 plain in The Slanted Winds Down Guerrero Street. He is a past General and Poetry Editor for Forum Magazine.
Forum Literary Magazine 