Night in the City: A New Poem by James Bell

you can almost hear a siren’s distant howl
his cigarette is fresh and will take a while to smoke –
she will stand and wait for an answer

their window is closed against the night air,
noise and car fumes – they prefer their own temperatures
and aromas, half undressed or dressed

her perfume stronger; she wears a black skirt
and bra for heat rather than warmth – the red mask
hooked on the window frame is for a perspective

to see through any party masquerade
that has been or is yet to be – while
both sets of eyes are locked together

they see each other with the same expression – question
whether resolution will arrive before dawn

Bio: James Bell has published two poetry collections, the just vanished place (2008) and fishing for beginners (2010), both from tall-lighthouse. He lives in Brittany where he contributes articles and photography to an English language journal and continues to publish poems nationally and internationally. His recent print appearances include Tears In The Fence, Elbow Room, The Journal, Shearsman, The Stony Thursday Book, Under the Radar and Upstairs at Du Roc.