Anglerfish

1.
At the grocery store, old man
Grew teeth and a wet nose.

Sweaty, ruddy, red sweatshirt
He was at the end
Of every aisle, with a blessing:

Never cut your hair.

2.

He is there, in the parking lot.

I yank my head off
For him. The shoppers gape --

My neck, a great geyser, head 
Rolling across the concrete, hair matted
In a blood puddle.

3.

In the next life, make me 
An anglerfish

Medusa, with glaze-eyes, 
Mouth cranked in a filthy underbite.

But in the pitch abyss, a bobbing light, enchanting
Every swimming thing. I eat them

Like oysters --
Useless, lavish, hardly food at all.

The trench echoes.