old norms and modes

Some of that jazz
is awesome, though, but
just 'cause I love films
noirs
doesn't mean
I feel driven to write
one, or make one, or
worse, walk around
all black and white cracking
laconic quips, calling babes
'dames' and opening an office
where I hang out a shingle,
learn how to whistle
'til the bell

rang.
I looked up.
The door was trouble for some dame,
but in she walked. Had a bad case
for me, so I opened it. Inside
was a missing diamond
the size
of the depressing
dent in the cushion. I lifted
my eyes
to meet hers.

She declined at first,
demure no doubt. Actually,
there was

some doubt

as her eyes met mine. "Sorry,
sweetheart," I lied. "I only
investigate clients."