from THE LONG GOODBYE by Raymond Chandlerby Buzz on 23/01/2013
When I got home I mixed a stiff one and
stood by the open window in the living room and
sipped it and
listened to the groundswell of traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard and
looked at the glare of the big angry city
hanging over the shoulder of the hills
through which the boulevard had been cut.
Far off the banshee wail
of police or fire sirens rose and fell,
never for very long completely silent.
Twenty four hours a day somebody is running,
somebody else is trying to catch him.
Out there in the night of a thousand crimes,
people were dying,
cut by flying glass,
crushed against steering wheels
or under heavy tires.
People were being
People were hungry, sick; bored,
desperate with loneliness
shaken by sobs.
A city no worse than others,
a city rich and vigorous and full of pride,
a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness.
It all depends on where you sit
and what your own private score is.
I didn’t have one.
I didn’t care.
I finished the drink
and went to bed.