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Film Noir

ISSUE:  Winter 2013

It’s a farm town in the August heat
With a couple of bars along Main Street.
A jukebox moans from an open door
Where a bored waiter sweeps the floor.

A bus pulls up by Imperial Fruit.
A guy gets off in a new prison suit.
He’s not bad looking. Medium height.
Full of ambition. Not too bright.

He’s a low life. He’s one of the lost
Who’s burnt every bridge he’s ever crossed.
Just out of the slammer, a ticking bomb,
The Wrath of God and Kingdom Come.

It’s the long odds on a roll of the dice
For big stakes you can’t bet twice.
The cards get dealt. The wheel spins.
At the end of the night the house always wins.

He sees her alone at the end of the bar,
Smoking and hot like a fallen star.
She’s a cold beauty with a knowing wink.
If she shot you dead, she’d finish your drink.

Some guys learn from their mistakes,
But all he learned is to raise the stakes.
There’s something he forgot in jail—
That the female’s deadlier than the male.

It’s tough love from a hard blue flame,
And you can’t beat a pro at her own game.
It’s the long con. It’s the old switcheroo.
You think you’re a player, but the mark is you.

She’s married but lonely. She wishes she could.
Watch your hands! Oh, that feels good.
She whispers how much she needs a man.
If only he’d help her. She has a plan.

Their eyes meet, and he can tell
It’s gonna be fun, but it won’t end well.
He hears her plot with growing unease.
She strokes his cheek, and he agrees.

It’s a straight shot. It’s an easy kill.
If he doesn’t help her, some other guy will.
It’s a sleek piece with only one slug.
Spin the chambers and give it a tug.

The heat of her lips, the silk of her skin.
His body ignites. He pushes in.
They lie in the dark under the fan—
A sex-drunk chump, a girl with a plan.


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