Noirboiled Notes
Pulp poems, book reviews, and other tidbits from the noirboiled world
Monday, May 11, 2009
Pulp Poem of the Week
He cursed us in a low,
steady, monotonous voice,
ripping his words
off back-alley fences,
off privy walls.
Robert Bloch
Spiderweb
1954
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