Monday, September 30, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

Three times
I have been mistaken
for a Prohibition agent,
but never had any trouble
clearing myself.

          Dashiell Hammett
          “From the Memoirs of a Private Detective” 

Monday, September 23, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

He might be
he had a
worried look about him.

          Gil Brewer
          Memory of Passion

Monday, September 16, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

Were watching you so don’t pull
anything phoney—or else your
kid gets knocked off see. We
mean that Mrs. Cobb.

Now from filling station drive

straight to Darien —turn right
BEFORE going under R.R. bridge.
You turn your trip spedometer
to OOO.  Follow car line.

You go exactly ONE mile and STOP.

Have packages ready!!     If you
tip COPS its goodnight for kid.
How about it?     We’ll meet you.
     Norman Klein
     No! No! The Woman!

Monday, September 9, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

I started toward him.
Not fast.
I was in no hurry.
The longer it lasted,
the more I would like it.

     Howard Browne
     “Man in the Dark”

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Donald E. Westlake, Drowned Hopes (1990)

In which Dortmunder must figure out how to retrieve money buried at the bottom of a lake. My pet peeve about the Dortmunder series has been that the lighter tone of these books (compared to, say, oh, I don't know, the Parker novels?) tempts Westlake sometimes to take the easy, sophomoric route (e.g., fart jokes). This time out, plot and execution are strong (the first major underwater scene, in particular, is brilliantly claustrophobic), and the proceedings stay mature . . . but Westlake cannot resist a certain silliness that sometimes mars the cumulative gravitas of the Dortmunder series. Exhibit A: Dortmunder at Mt. Rushmore, which is a deeply regrettable self-indulgence. Grade B+

Monday, September 2, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

Innocence is killing
For profit.

Guilt is killing
For pleasure.

          David Rachels
          Verse Noir