Right away, I could tell she was looking for something—
or someone. Maybe me. We locked peepers. Hers were
agate-colored. Suspicious. Real shifty. She was a squawky
little broad. Made noises like she was hungry. But for what?
A hamburger sandwich? Shrimp DeJonghe? No, sir. It was milk
she was after—and she seemed to think I was a dairy cow, not
a cop. It took some doing, but I got her settled down. Real cozy.
By then, it was 2 a.m. Maybe even later. Time has no meaning
in a place like that, with the shades drawn, shutting out that
old apple, which always goes on with its sad business, even
when you’ve just met a babe like this one, a babe who will
change everything. As dizzy as I was for her, my partner
was just as whacky. Maybe even more. But that was
jake by me—he seemed to know just how to hold her,
what to say to get her all dormy any time she’d throw
an ing-bing, in that goofy way she had. Crazy kid.
What could we do with her, my partner and me?
We took her home, of course. Don’t get any
funny ideas. She’s our sweet pally, that’s all.
She’s aces. And that’s on the level.
NaPoWriMo, Day 9 prompt: Write a noir-inspired poem. I might say more in the comments later, but first, I want to see how many people get what I’m writing about and who the speaker is. Also, I’m linking for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.