No Respect for Great Machinery by Forrest Evans “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” You don’t have to tell me, I heard it when your mouth opened and grasped. I felt you, too, wanted more of ‘this’ and the night. I gave you a few inches and you wanted miles of a forest you did not earn, or learn anything from. Maybe it’s too late or I have oversimplified your feelings again, but I’m tryin’ to enjoy the better vibrations, too. Tonight’s the night, the moon is right when she entered Forrest and had no clue. Burning loud, leaves and the branches were still dripping from the rain, or confusion you sparked and danced for. You made it rain and pour for days until you could not step into the same river, twice. It felt like a desert wasteland until you realized it was the same woman you used to follow rivers with. What will it take to show you I am present or willing to wait for you— or believe so? A woman without intentions or someone to answer to— the danger, and spells they cast with their looks.
Forrest Evans is a published poet and librarian. Much of her work can be read in The Lavender Review, Carnival Literary Magazine, and The Apogee Journal. A military brat and raised in the Bible belt, Evans has returned to the south— where she writes, and fights for under education and gender inequality.