Heartland Film Noir Classic Starring Peter Lorre ctd.

I fell upon her like a madman, 
with my buck knife wildly,
swining lethal in the moonlight
wildy at her naked bosom
a dealy steel eraser for the ravages of art,
when you came out of the darkness,
an angel in black leather,
a big black leather duster,
that billowed out behind you,
your voice a rasping, screeching,
hoarse from calling bingo,
beer, cigars. and calling bingo,
screeching horror into the darkness
where Sable Staci lay and bled.

We traded blows near midnight,
half an hour past the stroke of midnight,
over the cooling corpse
of the love we both adored,
and when the last blow had landed,
I ran into the moonlight,
chased by the wailing, screeching,
of a hatred newly born.

And he'll be here with me always
that bug-eyed face, still sneering,
sneering at me while I'm walking
walking backward ever wandering
in a southerly direction,
walking towards the radio
that is plugged into Armageddon,
broadcasting all the answers
to the questions Why and How.
Till then I wander,
and perhps, if I ever met you,
met you leaning idly
on a slot machine in Vegas,
Maybe I will ask you
if it's still the wait that kills you,
and if you still have the woes we carried
up to Grimsby years ago.
And if you're worried about the dreaming
on the dark side of creation,
then you need to talk to Lorre
the brilliant Peter Lorre
for in his face: the Answers
to all your hopeless searching
tattooed on the breast of Creation
taunting, laughing, maddening,
the Sneering, Bug-eyed face.
The face of Peter Lorre.

fin.

vol.1 no.3 Fall 1999

Lovely Ugly Brutal World
New regular column by AR
Neuralgia Survey

Poetry:
Entombed--Alix Caldwell
Heartland Film Noir Classic Starring Peter Lorre--Fetters
Retinal Fetish--AR
Salvador Dalai Lama--David Goth
Untitled--Regina
Transfuse Me--Tom Hamilton

Prose/Short Stories:
Cradle--David Canada
An Episode--A.M. Olsson

Reviews

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