Feeling Like Mike Hammer Poem by Robert Smith

I feel like Mike Hammer after the third or
fourth attack by a gunman in one day, I
feel all fatigued and evil, finding the noise
in my downtown Chicago just too much;
I need the care of an electrifying beauty
to restore me to my macho bravery

I want to solve this crime so I can reach
the last page and take a momentary
break before the next attacker come
again, I want to feel the joy of seeing
how the criminal pointing his gun at me
is gunned down himself by the hair-trigger

Rifle of the skeleton who had been killed
by him thirty years ago, then turn to Velda,
my life’s love, and show her where is
paradise…

Mickey Spillane “The Snake”