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”
     1952 

Pulp Poem of the Week

He was dead.
Even with practice
he would never be
any deader.

          Howard Browne
          Halo in Blood
          1946

Pulp Poem of the Week

I could come in early
any afternoon
and drink her liquor
and give her a roll in the hay,
no questions asked,
no obligations and
no recriminations.
Not because it was me, either.
It was there for anyone
who was friendly,
no stranger,
and had clean fingernails.

     Howard Browne
     “Man in the Dark”
     1952