BRUNK HOWARD


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noir in polka dots

In a dive

Filled with

Wanted dead or alive's.

Shadowy indeterminants.

As if there's other kinds

In my world of empty raped gold mines.


She inhales ether

T' keep awake, she says.

I sleep walk her shadow,

Fall down in the fumes

And show my business card:


It says:


Name's Llewellen

Don't call me Ellen

Two tried

Two died

Don't know how

But like a cow

And a cup o' milk,

You figure it out.


She says, "Lotta letters

On your business card".

I say, "I mean business".

She says, "You can trust me,

Everybody else is a liar".

I say, "You callin' me a liar?"

She says, "You figure it out."


She's a live wire,

Sucking in ether an' still

Pouring out enough volts

T' shock a power station dead.


Her one piece polka dot

Sleeveless dress.

Her long string o' pearls

Making love with that dress.

Her crossed-eyes

Lookin' at me and my card

At the same time.

And ringing' in my mind

"She's a gold mine

I can do business with".


She holds her lips in a way,

That says bottomless gold mine

In my mind

Don't ask me why

On that or any day.

I wasn't born t' know.

Or maybe they are just naturally that way.


I don't tell her I'm a hunted man.

I figure

She has enough left over figure

Under that sleeveless polka dot dress

T' figure it out.


That day in the part of town

Four legged rats won't even die in,

In a Van Gogh room

All off kilter

We find our bearings.

All day we talk our dreams

Kill dead all our screams

Till dusk finds us

Locked tight.


Two hit men

Introduced by chance

In that underwater ether dive

Come upon us,

With packed heat enough

To stop all our lying.

Leaving blood-wet sheets,

An unpaid thirty-nine dollar bill

And a desk clerk

Adrift in thought,

Thinking there's something

Important his mother told him

That he can't remember

At this moment.