Film
Noire
“Dead
men are heavier than broken hearts.”
Raymond
Chandler
For
Daniel
Wade
John
A. Maher, Private Detective, peered out
The
window of the fourth floor of Lafayette,
His
vantage point was on par with a Gargoyle!
The
river split the city like a fissure, before him.
It
was a city divided by accent and money.
On
the northside, speech was contracted to the point
Of
almost unintelligibility, which he liked
Never
quite trusting language himself.
While
on the south, it was all accent darling,
Barring
the odd enclave. Maher moved through it all
Monosyllabic,
stony-faced and with mild amusement.
Humans
were weak creatures so prone to error.
And so some were driven to crime; one needed a hard fist,
Copious
amounts of alcohol and a certain penchant for metaphysics.
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