Film Noir

under the moon and murky alleyways i roam with rats the mean and rain-slicked streets a private eye, taking whatever pays i search for her, whose husbands bloody sheets... paid me to find her and his rich receipts with-in the fog was smoke like fog in air from her short cigarette and sinful glare the light from lamp poles blinked; our bullets blew a man was dead from our brief love affair and briefly bullets both inside us grew