Star Power
If you strip long enough in a small town
even ghosts of sexual assaults past
are eventually found at the round
end of a phallic shaped stage being flashed
by some “sexy librarian” in cat-eyed
glasses, reminiscent of college girl you,
tormented in his daddy’s McMansion, pine
forest views. Sneak past three piece suits
to the dressing room. One hour to ply baby lotion,
perfume, plaid skirts, kneesocks, pigtails
conjure innocent skin he has never been in —
college stoner cum businessman. Want details,
how he wailed when ejected from this bar.
A body broken by him makes you a star.
Horror Sleaze Trash 