White Jazz

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All I have is the will to remember. Time revoked/fever dreams — I wake up reaching, afraid I’ll forget. Pictures keep the woman young.

L.A., fall 1958.

Newsprint: link the dots. Names, events — so brutal they beg to be connected. Years down — the story stays dispersed. The names are dead or too guilty to tell.

I’m old, afraid I’ll forget:

I killed innocent men.

I betrayed sacred oaths.

I reaped profit from horror.

Fever — that time burning. I want to go with the music — spin, fall with it.

L.A. Herald-Express, 10/17/58:

“Hollywood Cavalcade” Feature, Hush-Hush Magazine, 10/28/58:

The job: take down a bookie mill, let the press in — get some ink to compete with the fight probe.

Some fruit sweating a sodomy beef snitched: fourteen phones, a race wire. Exley’s memo said show some force, squeeze the witnesses at the hotel later — find out what the Feds had planned.

In person: “If things get untoward, don’t let the reporters take pictures. You’re an attorney, Lieutenant. Remember how clean Bob Gallaudet likes his cases.”

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