In Fritz Lang Fashion

Let's make it noir. The times are right.
It's night and we're alone beneath a light
Above a rain-slick street. The cops are out.
They're looking for escapees from their
Quarantines. If we can't justify our presence
Out of doors, we'll have to pay. Step back!
Put out that cigarette. Somebody's coming
Near.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 24 times
Written on 2020-05-07 at 22:13

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