Pulp Poem of the Week

I was a machine, and
my arm was the arm of the machine, and
the gun was a part of the machine. And
when the machine’s finger contracted
the machine’s gun exploded, and
that was what the machine was for.

          Donald E. Westlake
          The Mercenaries
          1960

Pulp Poem of the Week

no man
has ever been trapped
except through
his emotions

          Donald E. Westlake
          The Mercenaries
          1960

Pulp Poem of the Week

spread-eagled
on the bed
like a steamrollered
Arthur Dimmesdale

          Donald E. Westlake
          What’s So Funny?
          2007

Pulp Poem of the Week

An ounce of caution
is worth
a pound of plasma.

          Donald E. Westlake
          The Mercenaries
          1960

Pulp Poem of the Week

That was the moment
his mouth opened,
his throat closed,
his eyes bulged,
his heart contracted,
and his hands began to shake
like fringe on a cowgirl.

          Donald E. Westlake
          The Road to Ruin
          2004

Pulp Poem of the Week

So rarely
is the truth
the simplest
possible answer.

          Donald E. Westlake
          “Party Animal”
          1993

Pulp Poem of the Week

I hope I
break even today;
I could
use the cash.

          Donald E. Westlake
          “Horse Laugh”
          1986

Pulp Poem of the Week

You open a door

in New York,

you never know

what’s in there.

          Donald E. Westlake

          Get Real

          2009

Pulp Poem of the Week

Never break a law
you don’t intend to break.

          Donald E. Westlake
          “Ask a Silly Question”
          1981

Book Review: Donald E. Westlake, The Mercenaries [a.k.a. The Smashers, a.k.a. The Cutie] (1960)

This mob whodunit would probably not have warranted a reprint by Hard Case Crime were it not Donald E. Westlake’s debut (or, more accurately, his debut under his own name). Narrated by George Clayton—known to his associates simply as Clay—The Mercenaries (reprinted by HCC as The Cutie, complete with cover art that has nothing whatsoever to do with the book) finds Westlake inching his way toward the world of Richard Stark and Parker with Clay’s recurring commentary about the necessity of good criminals behaving without emotion. In sum, a competent but not memorable novel of high academic interest to fans of Westlake/Stark. Grade: C

Pulp Poem of the Week

one good cop
is about as useful as
one good paper towel
in a hurricane

          Donald E. Westlake
          introduction to Charles Willeford’s
               The Way We Die Now
          1996