Detective noir story Rain (poems 1 & 2)

I arrived at the bar midst sheets of rain
 Now the squall had passed, water sat in quilts
 As I quaffed my second beer I sensed pain
 Dropping the glass I fell as if from stilts

 I woke in an Italian restaurant
 Facing Fat John and his date, not as old
 As the Scotch he was drinking “What you want?”
I snarled. “The old you” he said “He wouldn't fold”

“Quit whining” I said “Saved you a hundred”
Was I'd grind the goon's Snoz into the rug
 Then to the poor sap a yard would be fed
 Never worked for him, just returned his thug

 I was only a beer drunk. While drinking
 I still did an awful lot of thinking

 Now I cogitated, seems like a frame
 He wants to set me up to take a fall
 While he runs off with an Orchid, some game
 John was blowing smoke, when before, his drawl

 Said he wanted the old me(weak sister
 He's after) he thinks too many putdowns
 Has made me a Palooka, a blister
 On the goon's beezer I'll place, facedowns

 Raw my nerves, I could be sitting pretty
 Could pull a double-cross, find a sheba
 And vanish like smoke, lost in the city
 With the berries, I'll play the dim fella

 I'm behind the eight-ball, long on the nut
 He's heavy sugar, need to fill my gut