Monday, July 28, 2008

Morning sun stripes cell.
Five fingers feel my hard heart.
It hurts, hurts, like hell.

Charles Willeford
Miami Blues

Monday, July 21, 2008

Her hair was falling over
her shoulders in snaky
curls. Her eye was all black,
and her breasts weren't drawn
up and pointing at me,
but soft, and spread out
in two big pink splotches.
She looked like the great
grandmother of every
whore in the world.
The devil got his
money's worth that night.

James M. Cain
The Postman Always Rings Twice

Monday, July 14, 2008

Her voice faded off
into a sort of sad whisper,
like a mortician asking
for a down payment.

Raymond Chandler
The Little Sister

Monday, July 7, 2008

He recognized the picture.
It was a snapshot,
blown up.  A picture of
Patricia that summer in Maine
when she had worn the Bikini
for the first and last time,
wearing it that once
out there on the rocks,
while they swam.  She had
large breasts.  She had been
unable to control them.

Gil Brewer
77 Rue Paradis