Been working on a re-write of this (bit late to be topical now, but who cares?)
Any opinions on the 1st and 2nd versions?

First version

We heard on the ‘vine, that Valentine’s gang
Was muscling in, on the patch that
We run in the city of neon junk.
The look you threw we understood
Meant ‘stand up and fight,’
Beat rhymy cards, a hell of a look.

Stood on dusk’s bridge into the dark,
We both looked the part:
Zoot suit, fedora, flapper dress, feather in hair.
Chocolates walks up, the soft-centred boy,
Says ‘Want some of me?’
So you blow him away with a derringer.

As I admire the fire that
Keeps you pure, and broody for war,
Table-for-two tries to creep ‘round the back,
The last thing he heard was the crack
Of the fire of the lyrical tommy gun,
That keeps me pure, free from the lure

Of the cheap shot to the heart.
Romance is fighting the fight
That you can’t hope to win,
In the end it was Rose did you in,
Red Wine got me.

The neon urchins will never forget
The funeral song they sang, as
We died in arms, the credits rolled:
Into the coffers of Valentine’s gang.


Second Version -
We heard on the ‘vine, that Valentine’s gang
Was muscling in, on the patch that
We run in the city of neon junk.
The look you threw I understood
Meant ‘stand up and fight,’
Beat rhymy cards, a hell of a look.

The henchmen: Chocolates, Table-For-Two,
Some other schmucks, making gestures
In front of our stronghold in Parsimony,
Chocolates steps forward
Says ‘Want some of me?’
So you blow him away with a ‘No.’

As I admire the fire that
Keeps you pure, and broody for war,
Table-For-Two tries to creep ‘round the back,
The last thing he heard was the crack
Of the fire of the lyrical tommy gun,
That keeps me pure, free from the lure

Of those cheap shots, to the heart.
But I think we both knew, you can’t win the fight
With Valentine’s persuasive might, emotional
Blackmail bullet graffiti written from
From here to Chicago. At the death of the day,
Rose cut you, Red Wine bottled me.

The hoods in Parsimony quickly forgot
The funeral song they sang, as
We died disarmed, the credits rolled:
Into the coffers of Valentine’s gang.

Stanza one of the first poem, then, skip stanza two in both versions. Stanza three and on from the second version give to me a tight and great story poem.

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment! All constructive criticism welcomed. I will put this one away for a while, maybe I'll get that tricky second stanza done by next Valentine's...