“Ontology! I’m just
telling you a story
about this projector, that’s all.”
Edward Dorn, Gunslinger, Book II
The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946)
No point summarising, neither could
Chandler or Hawks. Bogart-Bacall
mouthing Chandler-Faulkner-Brackett.
Set pieces, anxious double-entendres.
Elusive, like a re-financed dream, or
suburban tracts, fuzzy around edges.
The title: what we've yet to awake
from. Nascent spaghetti freeways in
from. Nascent spaghetti freeways in
a land where dicks rarely walk. Down
what mean streets? As if automobility
were enough, or protection? Those
bonnes mots now rampant, quick,
bonnes mots now rampant, quick,
artificial, if left to the imagination,
like “butchering on the parlor floor.”
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