Ted Bundy

Ted Bundy

I.

Before sweat gripped crowbars, three strands
of blonde, the boat imagined, or plaster
of Paris,

Stephanie, the first to touch Ted's wrist, skin
purple with vein, stops courting.

II.

Now teeth pocketed skin, blood
in the carpet grain. Brain, too--
red and yawning.

I feel like a
vampire, Ted says.

III.

The picture shows a raised palm, the start
of a smile. Now even the attractive
fail--how unnerving

to look at Ted and think
lust.

IV.

A chair.
A crowd cheers when the hearse and Ted pass.
And fireworks,

lighter fluid, a barbeque pit, somewhere a first kiss,
fruit sticky fresh, children circling in play.