Starsky (and Hutch) – Ellie Rees

I found him last week – quite by chance – on line,
he and his blond partner, still fighting crime.
Their leather jackets, his red and white car
it’s the way that he moves… coiled, muscular.
It seems somewhat strange at my age – for surely
I’ve fallen in love once more – with Starsky.

I sit before the screen as Starsky pulls his gun
explodes into a running chase
or it’s when he touches his partner’s face
it’s his tightly wound energy and strength that entice
(I’m feeling a little delirious)
my mind has become
such a glamorous place

But –

Starsky is writing his reports on a typewriter
Hutch records evidence reel-to-reel
cars, with bonnets the size of double beds
growl and roar through littered streets

Side-walks with call-boxes hungry for coins
a bit-part actor searches for a dime

Telephones everywhere nakedly revealed
with cables that coil
squatting on desks
or pinned to a wall

The receiver crashes down
in frustration or rage
just so the camera
can dwell on
Starsky’s face.

But –

it’s not the spaniel collars
or the high-waisted trousers
it’s not the victim status
of all the female roles
it’s simply my reflection
look – there on the screen
blurring his expression –
that drags a veil once more between
the present and the past.

Starsky is not reachable by mobile phone.

The Cabinet Of Heed Issue 29 Contents Link

Image via Wikimedia Commons



Comments are closed.

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: