The sputtering love life of a young crime reporter

Crime Reporter’s Poem


His name was Dennis Domrzalski;
The crime beat was his game.
He smoked cigars and drank a lot
And had a gorgeous dame.

He worked like hell to dig up crime--
A damn good job he did.
The bad guys couldn’t hide from him--
He knew where they hid.

He hated crime--oh my God--
How it made him sick.
When his stories ran in print
The criminals had their pick

Of any jail in the land
To spend their wasted lives.
And D’d walk off and drink some booze
In the local dives.

“Whiskey, straight--bring it now--
Leave the bottle Jackson.
Who’s that sweet thing down the bar?
I’ll betcha she wants action.

“Hey babe, come here, sit by me,
I’m a crime reporter.
Barkeep, yo, over here,
And take this sweet thing’s order.

“Ya say your name is Baby Jane.
Sounds like bull to me.
You shouldn’t lie you silly thing.
Let’s see your I.D.

“Yeah, I can check it, yes I can,
‘Cause I’m a crime reporter.
My beat’s this nation from its core
To its every border.

“It says your name is Sally,
Sally Cozinetti.
I used to know a bum named that.
You got a brother named Eddie?

“No? So what, who cares,
I don’t give a damn.
He’s probably dead; he’s probably shot.
He got it ‘Bam! Bam! Bam.’

“Sal, my name is Dennis.
My name is Dennis D.
I’m rough and tough and real mean
‘Cause crime’s got hold of me.

“I hang around police stations.
I see crime all the time.
I think about it day and night,
It’s always on my mind.

“We’ve got to stop the bad guys.
We’ve got to put ‘em away.
We’ve got to make our nation’s streets
Safe for kids to play.

“I don’t like kids--don’t get me wrong--
I hate their little guts.
The way they giggle and laugh all day
They must all be nuts.

“But crime is bad; it hurts the nation,
And someone’s got to stop it.
We’ve got to put thecrooks away
And take away crime’s profit.

“That job’s part mine, Baby Sal,
‘Cause I report on crime.
All the bums that I write up
Wind up doing time.

“Impressed you say? I thought you’d be.
Let’s go to my apartment,
Where you and I can both remove
These stupid, silly garments.”

They left the bar. He took her home.
He walked her through the alleys.
He said how tough and mean he was
And bragged to his sweet Sally.

“Don’t be scared,” he said to her.
“I’m here to protect you.
If bad guys try to beat us up
I’ll just shoot a few.”

That thrilled the daylights out of her;
She fell into his arms.
She was doomed and couldn’t resist
The crime reporter’s charms.

They found his joint, a boarding room,
Above an all-night diner.
He bought her chili and asked her then
If she was a minor.

She said “no.” They went upstairs,
And he unlocked the door.
When the chili was all gone
He asked, “Do you want more?”

“No,” she said, “it’s you I want.
Please take off your shirt.”
This he did and plus some more
And he removed her skirt.

They kissed it seems so passionately,
It’s clear that love was there.
He removed his ban-lon socks
And she her underwear.

Other garments went in time.
She nibbled on his ear.
He looked at her so lovingly
And held her very near.

She told him that she loved him so.
She said, “You’re mine all mine.”
When he asked her why, she said:
“‘Cause you report on crime.”

They embraced so wickedly
And fell onto the bed.
She rubbed his chest and other parts,
Good feelings filled his head.

He thought of home and dear sweet mom
And wondered what she’d say,
If she’d seen how he’d grown up
And found new ways to play.

Time went on and things got warm,
The moon was full that night.
They kissed and hugged and romped around--Things seemed so very right.

The moment was soon approaching
When their love’d be final.
That it was there and both felt it
Of this there’s no denial.

He looked at her. She looked at him.
He seemed a little frightened.
She assured him tenderly,
How his face then brightened.

He made his move to finalize
Those mutual loving feelings.
Closer still he moved to her--
And then he was sent reeling.

Ring! Ring! Ring!--Dong! Dong! Dong!
He heard the sirens screaming.
Fire trucks is what they were,
He knew he was not dreaming.

He jumped up to the window
And saw the trucks go by.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” he screamed,
“Who? What? When? Where? Why?”

He quickly dressed and looked at Sal,
Who by then was crying.
He tried right then to comfort her
And said, “Bums may be dying.”

“I’m sorry, Sal,” he said to her,
“It’s such a crazy time.
But someone may have torched a joint
And that’s a damn big crime.”

He donned his hat, a gray fedora,
And slid right out the door.
He winked at Sal and said to her,
“I’ll be back for more.”

The blaze was cheap, really cheap.
There was nobody dead.
A mattress fire is all it was
In some old drunk bum’s bed.

Dennis phoned his editor and said,
“Chief, nothing’s up.
It’s home I’m bound, I’ll see ya ‘round.”
The phone he then hung up.

He stopped into a liquor store
And had a few quick shots.
He thought of Sal at home in bed
And knew he missed her lots.

Well, he rushed home to his sweet Sal,
But she had left by then.
She left a note on the table
Written with his pen.

“I loved you so you crazy man.
I had a damn good time.
But now I hate your guts, you bum,
You broke this heart of mine.

“I hope we never meet again
And that you’ll learn in time,
To take your openings when they come,
‘Cause love can’t wait for crime.

--Bye, Sally.”