Monday, April 21, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week



What could be more perfect
than an armored car?
It’s stinking with money
and it’s got wheels on it.

     Elliott Chaze
     Black Wings Has My Angel
     1953

Monday, April 7, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week



all
the logic
of
gonorrhea
in
a convent

     Charles Williams
     Girl Out Back
     1958

Monday, March 24, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week




He clenched his teeth.
He’d like to get her
to dance for him,
you know?
Yeah.
Then give it to her solid.
Then the rest.
And when he was really pumped up,
give it to her right.

          Gil Brewer
          Memory of Passion
          1962 

Monday, February 10, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week



A little man—
a clerk or a butcher—
he can hide for a while,
but a guy so dumb
he can only make dough
writing words on paper—
he ain’t got a chance.

          Steve Fisher
          I Wake Up Screaming
          1941

Monday, January 20, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week



don’t run
when nobody’s
chasing you


          Charles Williams
          Man on the Run
          1958 

Monday, January 13, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week



Nice old ladies
poison whole families.
Clean-cut kids
commit multiple holdups and shootings.
Bank managers with spotless records going back

     twenty years
are found out to be long-term embezzlers.
And successful and popular and supposedly
    happy novelists
get drunk and put their wives in the hospital.
We know damn little about what makes
even our best friends tick.


          Raymond Chandler
          The Long Goodbye
          1953 

Monday, January 6, 2014

Pulp Poem of the Week




His understanding of economics was,
you go out and steal money and
use it to buy food.
Alternatively,
you steal the food.

          Donald E. Westlake
          What’s the Worst That Could Happen?
          1996