he growls
pulls out a gun the guy nerves my body me him in a dark room
she was a librarian a pretty girl funny business like flips a coin
and gamble
a light the truth a femme fatale is trying to kill she has bullets
working her charm the kisser smells like my cigarettes
pistol-whipped I wake up in big trouble somebody has been found
who did it he didn’t some mug a shot the loot you someone falls to the floor
at the bar a chump
a bohemian type know nothing rotten bloody shooting on a tough guy hot damnation
it was in the hallway punches are flying legs footprints a fist across the chops
no good cabbages in the lake I say and I think my husband his wife a clue
he is out of swell and it’s about to take out
we give him thanks
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