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Routine Investigation

As we stood around the grave
‘fore dirt hit the coffin lid
I pictured the past few days and what hearts kept hid
Half pint in my pocket
I’d found Snook on Hollywood pier
Washin’ dishes at the Fish Stick
Winston tucked behind his ear
With Cheatem gone he was my best informant
Although years of snitchin’ had left his conscience dormant
We stepped outside, he bummed a light
I said, “didja hear about Cheatem last night
He floated back in and snagged his pants on some pilings
Musta thought seawater was a Salty Dog
Cos that dumb bastard was smiling
Snook said, “whaddaya askin’ me for
I ain’t seen him in a week or more”
I said, “take it ez Snook
This case is 12 hours old
This is just routine…when his stone is set
This case’ll be stone cold”

Snook growled, “the last time he came in
His brains were scrambled
Belly bulgin’…skin yellow as a urine sample
Plus every Joe and his mama knows
He banged girls and ordered ‘em on the phone
Like Dominoes
Maybe after all those years of livin’ hard and liquor
A hard on was hard on his ticker
And it’s just a suggestion
But maybe he was spent, he came n went
And some gal dumped him to avoid
Lotsa fool questions”

I said, “hang on a second, I reckon you know
You lost a pile o’ dough
You got gypped when he stole your tip
On that meth sale in the valley
40 grand worth in a van outside a monster truck rally
And hell it’s just my point of view but for a dish jockey like you
That reward woulda been quite a score”

He handed back my matches
And like the wind took his ashes
It took his smoky alibi of bein’ home alone watchin’ CSI
I thanked him for his time
And asked where I might find
Mattie this time of day
Waved the smoke from my eyes and was on my way

I drove across town
Dozing at long red lights
Since my divorce, it’s been rough on the force
I ain’t been sleepin’ nights
Didn’t tell the department shrink
How I’d poured my Doris a drink
Smacked her a good one in the eye
When she told me about the other guy
How she’d left her drink there
Packed a bag cos mom’d sent busfare
Now she’s waiting tables back in Oklahoma
And I’ll bet her 36 Cs get her bigger tips
At Tony Roma’s

I ain’t slept a full night since
And my shrink is convinced I’d sleep
If I counted sheep
Took warm baths to soothe my muscles
Or did word puzzles in my bed alone
Like Jumble, anagrams or palindromes

…but fuggit…I’d stuck it out this long on brandy
And eatin’ No Doz like hard candy

Well, I found Mattie at home
Her green eyes were grave blankets
Over a bottomless abyss
All those years of hookin’ n crookin’
Treated her soul
Like a razor treats a wrist
She’d made lotsa money but paid a heavy price
For lettin’ losers wipe their loneliness
On the throw rug between her thighs

I said let’s take a ride, she had nuthin’ to hide
Told her I’d by her a Grand Slam
With an extra slab of ham at the local Denny’s
She sat there dishin’ on customer’s clothes
Dated knock-offs
Runs in the waitress’s hose
With the burning passion of a flamer judging fashion
At the Emmy’s

I said, “shweetheart, what about Cheatem”

She stuck a fork in her face pit and said
“Honey, you know him
He liked it up n durty
I’d give him what he liked for another thirty
You know what I mean
Cos he liked it stanky n bloody
Balls deep in the big muddy
Oh what a scene
He’d be groanin’ n moanin’
I’d have the tv on
With one eye on Leno or Conan
But hell…I don’t know what got him dead
But I’ll bet sleeping around
Made him that hard pine bed’
Then she wiped grease from her cheek
…and said, “hey things’ve been slow this week
I could use a ten for maxi-pads”
So I slipped her a twenty and said that was more'n plenty
plus enuff fer a taxi-cab

I had a bite to eat, called the lieu
And said I had some leads
But no solid proof
Knowing where law is concerned
Proof has little to do with the truth
He sad he had the tox screen
Cheatem drank poisoned Jim Beam
But there was nothing at the scene
He suggested I invite the suspects
To the funeral today
Cos how they act might give something away
A victim goin’ in the ground
Might uncover motive buried deep down

So there we were…me, Snooker n Mattie
Grass green enough for an eternity of holes
With the devil as a caddy
It took Snook three tries to get his Winston lit
He blew smoke at the sky
Then tapped some ashes on the coffin lid
Then Mattie looked at me
And looked in the hole
Tossed an old copy of “Shaved” in Cheatem’s grave
With her in the centerfold
Then I looked at her
And thought of love n lust n sin
Then tossed that half pint of poisoned bourbon in


Well, my lieu closed the case
When I said my overtime’d been a waste
I went home and my mind slowly went morbid
I couldn’t sleep thinkin’ how life is cheap
But death is cheaper
And even I could afford it

I laid there alone and thought of palindromes
And how countin’ sheep wasn’t for my brand of man
Thought of my ex…thought of the dead
Wrote “a slut did Tulsa” on a pad by my bed
And drifted off peaceful as a lamb

©2007 Robert George

So is this the POV of a crooked cop? Who got away with murder?

yes.

Hey Couch

While i certainly enjoyed the story in poem form. And I do appreciate the darkness in this one(almost reminds me of poe) I think the subject matter is a little strong. Might wanna at least warn people before they get to reading it. Just a suggestion not meaning any offense and I'm sure you probably feel the same way about Stan's lyrics but some of the crassness that was here was unnecessary. Other than that I felt it was well done!
Sincere Blessings
Derek

Derek, Stan's "lyric" was completely artless. the subject matter here should fit the subject of a cop investigating the murder of an informant.

Robert

I am not mindlessly critiqiung here. I am not trying to invoke any feelings of mistrust either. I only mentioned stan because there seems to be some sort of feud here I don't want to be caught in the middle of. I do agree that I didn't think there was a lot of redeeming value in his song(completely disregarding subject matter). That said some of the references to sexuallity in here are beyond gross. I understand your desire to be real but I didn't need those extra details to make this a good story. Your lyrics and writing most times is uplifting and positive. I'm not saying they always have to be that way either. I just think this one went a little far again just my opinion.
Sincere Blessings
Derek

Couch,

This reads like some of the first work I saw of yours years ago--before you knew what a song hook was. But were astonishing anyway. This is about as vivid and gritty of 3D writing as exists. Excellent craftsmanship and attention to telling details. One of my favorite lines...

All those years of hookin’ n crookin’
Treated her soul
Like a razor treats a wrist

Can't say I'd want to hang out with these folks, but you have certainly allowed me a peek into a world I would never hope to inhabit.

Still a fan, after all these years...

Keep writing.

Skip

P.S. Ever write short stories, or consider writing a novel? A collection of these as epic length poems would also be something I think would gain a readership, even without a musical setting.

thanks again Skip...I've written exactly one short story and I posted it here a few months back. It's called Crime Seen.

I was shooting for hard-boiled detective fiction with Routine Investigation...just with rhyme.

Couch,

How do I get to "Crime Seen"?

Skip

lemme see if I can bump it.

Great story/poem. I did not see the ending comming at all. Had to read it twice. Very good descriptions and characters.

This is art happening at the intersection of craft and reckless abandon. Couch, are you as twisted as your imaginary characters?
I bet you liked the movie "Body Heat".

thanks Moosesong.

Joe, twisted is a matter of opinion, haha. I love Body Heat but that movie is a re-telling of Double Indemnity with Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck and Edward G. Robinson. THAT'S film noir...script by Raymond Chandler. never gets old.

WOW what a great storyline...didn't see the end happening that way. Awesome feels like those seedy cop stories from the 50's.
I want another one make it a series...

thanks Kathy...have you read Black Mirrors?

Joe, I should add I love BH...I just wanted to mention Double Indemnity.

No I haven't what/where is it?

Clicking on Couch's name I accessed his profile and previous posts. Crime Scene is on page 3.

The above poem could be fleshed out into one of those gritty stories as a screenplay, ala "Sin City." Just enough characters to give them people to 'play' with, and lots of intriguing scenery. You could set it in present day or 1940's, 50's. It captured the dark reality of the world of cops and criminals.

thank you...:)