Poem: “Try Me He Said”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Try me he said

And slid the pistol

Across the bar

As if this were

A Wild West show

Or B movie re-run

When in fact we were

As moderns in suits

Atop a skyscraper

In a penthouse

With city lights ablaze

And a Pollack copy

On the wall

Where the literati paused

With canap├ęs mid flight

To mouths agape,

Aghast.

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Filed under American popular culture, flash poetry, literature and movies, poetry, prose poetry, troubled people, Westerns, works in progress

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