[Gail White]

Film Noir

You know that, in the movies, they must meet—
those lovers whom the script has torn apart.
Though they loved with a passion bittersweet,
war or bad karma upped their applecart.
He perhaps deceived by some blond tart,
or she, to keep her brother out of jail,
with weeping eyes said yes to some old fart.
Fadeout with violins and nightingale.

Flash forward twenty years. A fairy tale.
They meet again—what luck!—both wiser, older.
And he is rich and strong; she fair and frail.
Oh, happy end. He reaches to enfold her.
That's when I blow my nose, cause in real life
I go to films and you go to your wife.