Thursday, August 20, 2009

 
Biff, Noir Detective,


escorting me through depraved hells before my first day at Police Academy.
We both know I’m naive, so this crash course.

The lowest a stinking drug house in slashing rain.

“They get high and fuck on top of filthy rags.” Succinct Biff roughs up a few
but gets no info.

Once on the flooded pavement, I must declare, “A fitting end to the tour.
Let’s get coffee or something stronger. I’m soaked!”

“Hey!” he laughs, under the mercury streetlight his gnarled face even more menacing, “We got us another stop!”

“You can’t get lower! It’s worse than Dante!”

“One circle down yet. Republicans.”

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