Kristin Garth

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. 

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