poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Prequel To A Lost Hat (Film Noir)

the enticing lighting
of a cigarette,
the silk hiss
of a shed stocking

It rains;
a black hat tumbles
out of a phone booth.
The blonde
in disarray
clutches a paper
pocked with numbers;
punctuation marks
like miniature assassins
stalk her every movement.
A snake coils around her neck,
ouroborous with execution intent,
rosary beads, bullets
candy aspirin bulge in pockets.
She opens smudged lips,
swallows tin crucifix,
every foreign language
designed to pierce her culture.

1 Jul 07

Rated 9.5 (9.5) by 2 users.
Active (2): 9, 10
Inactive (0):

(define the words in this poem)
(15 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


 — unknown

i am listening to nina simone; your poem and the music fit perfectly [though nowhere close to noir, the music i mean]. on a cold southern hemisphere night, it's chilly in cape town.

the poem - is a lovely prequel.
i'm very unsure about the word pocked. but i don't have a suggestion either. menh.
consider 'movements' instead of 'every movement'. or even 'every moment'. i like that better, every moment.

would you consider a hyphen at the end of 12? comma just isn't sitting right somehow... perhaps i need to read more.

opens? no. 'parts' perhaps? don't need 'she' either, it's re-iterated in line 18.

wonderful poem.
 — varun