Monday, July 29, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

m an alcoholic,

will somebody
buy me a beer?

          Gil Brewer
          A Killer Is Loose

Monday, July 22, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

Not a kick was wasted.
Each of the two men received
two kicks in the guts,

by way of obtaining
temporary silence.

Each received
a kick in the temple,
by way of making the silence
more or less permanent.
Each received
three kicks in the face
as a lasting memento
of the kicking.

     Jim Thompson
     The Golden Gizmo

Monday, July 15, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

I awoke during the night
and she was gone.
Switching on the light,
I looked at my watch.
It was shortly after 3 P.M.

          Charles Williams
          Man on the Run


Monday, July 8, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

the bright light,
the soft sap,
the kick to the kidneys,
the knee to the groin,
the fist to the solar plexus,
the night stick to the base of the spine

          Raymond Chandler
          The Long Goodbye

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Book Review: Charles Williams, Man on the Run (1958)

Man on the Run begins with a man on the run for a crime that he didn’t commit. Russell Foley is his name, and he has the more-than-good fortune to break into the home of Suzy Patton, a stranger who is willing to help him. This is absurd even for a novel of this type, and the book’s ham-handed plotting as Russell and Suzy try to clear his name only heightens the absurdity. If I had not known that Charles Williams wrote this book, I would never have guessed it. I expect much, much better from him. Grade: D

Monday, July 1, 2013

Pulp Poem of the Week

I never knew a man

with a conscience
made a good con man.
And I never knew a conscience
to quit, either.
If anything, it grows on you
like some kind of
Mesopotamian wart.

          Gil Brewer
          A Devil for O’Shaugnessy