FADE IN: NIGHT
gathers her cloak, sparkling
sequin of stars, street & traffic-
lights. The disco ball of
moon hanging above
her dancefloor of cracked concrete,
while the chorus of cricket squeak
mingles with bleats of car horn
sing sweet in this place
here; this—she whispers, now
with cold & longing,
the man dodges cars, waits for the
light change in his bucket,
his girl. She shivers on a milk crate seat,
discarded cardboard sign shaking
matches her aluminum blanket,
& sirens. Coming for us, next? This place,
where at least we have each other,
with at least this one gratitude—
this is the life I am here for.
Siren Hand (they/them) is an Indianapolis-based poet and disabled veteran. They co-founded Antiquated Arts Society, which builds community through literary programming and connecting writers with the timeless technologies of creativity. Siren has been featured in genesis Literary & Arts Magazine, After Action Review, and other places. Siren’s favorite weapon is a typewriter.
