Robert Stack

the girl behind the counter
is sixteen, barely contained
in a bikini-top and "dolphin" shorts

folks start singing "God Bless America"
"are you wearing macrame?"
"it'll change your life"

they introduce me to their "housecat"
which the kids call "Maggie May"
I clean it out and carve
a "terrifying" face on it

deja vu of all moments of male massacre
that most ancient part of all thought
that judges all things strange

God, I sound like Robert Stack
stuck his latex-covered toe up my ass