deepundergroundpoetry.com
black lace noir
I check my pocket for change, enough for a burger or
a shot. the burger won’t get me where the whiskey will.
bar is dark & smoky, if it wasn’t I’d be in the wrong story.
cheap liquor, but it makes a nice burn in my throat.
dame walks in. there’s always a dame. It’s why I hang out
in joints like this. she grabs a fistful of my trench coat.
‘I could use a drink mister.’
I say me too, you buyin? two, three minutes go by. she
says ‘oh, you were serious.’ checkmate. I always get
the Vassar types.
she snaps open her shiny little pocketbook, pulls out
somethin I ain’t seen in a long time, I think they call it
a twenty.
when we drink away the last of her lonely andrew, she
invites me to walk her home. I’d have preferred to pass
out in the gutter, but I figured I owed her for the drinks.
outside, the night is the perfect shade of dark, kinda night
they make poems out of. it’s the obscenity of it.
at her place , she unbuttons & heads for the bedroom,
comes back in an outfit that is light & lyrical, it coulda
been made outa stardust.
I tell her she shouldn’t offer a package like that to a stranger
she just met. she says ‘everyone I meet is a stranger when
I meet em.’
her lips are warm & wet on mine, & I figure I musta side-stepped
into somebody else’s romance, cause a bum like me doesn’t
rate a doll like her.
fairytale kisses, & a big bad moon to tell me it wasn’t a dream.
I could almost call her the name of my first crush back in high
school. I could almost call her Amy…
like I said, some nights are made for a poem.
Published 28th Mar 2015
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likes 23
reading list entries 5
comments 18
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Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
28th Mar 2015 10:18pm
<< post removed >>
28th Mar 2015 10:27pm
28th Mar 2015 10:42pm
You turn up the big heat with style and quite a sense of humor this time. Dangerously droll through most of it, yet wistful at the conclusion. I'm sure Amy would be delighted.
29th Mar 2015 00:06am
29th Mar 2015 5:02am
when we drink away the last of her lonely andrew, she
invites me to walk her home. I’d have preferred to pass
out in the gutter, but I figured I owed her for the drinks.
I was with you the whole walk home Johnny Rotten... real talk
Excellent scribe, really truly visual...
loved this!!!
Love
Zazzles xoxoxo
invites me to walk her home. I’d have preferred to pass
out in the gutter, but I figured I owed her for the drinks.
I was with you the whole walk home Johnny Rotten... real talk
Excellent scribe, really truly visual...
loved this!!!
Love
Zazzles xoxoxo
29th Mar 2015 6:13am
Classic write from you John
plus body stockings i do like wearing
picture sets the mood of the poem very well
plus body stockings i do like wearing
picture sets the mood of the poem very well
29th Mar 2015 8:17am
29th Mar 2015 9:48pm
You are truly a master of your craft.
I really enjoyed every piece you wrote.
Another genius work.
I really enjoyed every piece you wrote.
Another genius work.
29th Mar 2015 10:05pm
Beautifully Noir - you are so good at this, I was really drawn in to your world here and enjoyed the ride:-)
Truly excellent Ink :-)
Truly excellent Ink :-)
29th Mar 2015 11:32pm
Your poems always read like an old western movie in my head...Yet another classic like John Feddeler
30th Mar 2015 5:57am
30th Mar 2015 10:31am
Aww...striking read agn JF. When u say of the dark n the nightish poetic part, it feels like a fairytale by itself even without a pint of romance, cos a raring heart could sense sonething intense brewing in the setting of the poetic nights. Btfl n loved the story u spun with her, him n mesmerizing night:) tq fr this
30th Mar 2015 7:29pm
I so love your noir, Sir Johnny Walker! haha. I didn't want to call you, Andrew. I truly love this one!! It makes me want to ink for the bum under the big bad moon!
Anonymous
30th Mar 2015 8:30pm
nice! love the pic
31st Mar 2015 3:03am
Masterful write... You expressed the excitement and daze that people imagine when they fantasize about seduction by a stranger. Love this!
31st Mar 2015 8:35am
"fairytale kisses, & a big bad moon to
tell me it wasn’t a dream."
if only all intangibles worked this way...
... another steller write, Mister Feddeler
tell me it wasn’t a dream."
if only all intangibles worked this way...
... another steller write, Mister Feddeler
12th Apr 2015 5:04am
Even in the darkest and dingiest of streets
passions stir in lonesome heart beats such as in your sweet sepia snapshot, John. Nice job !
passions stir in lonesome heart beats such as in your sweet sepia snapshot, John. Nice job !
Anonymous
16th Apr 2016 10:33am
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