in the dark recesses of a new shopping mall. Supposedly the offspring of the mall tycoon himself, the creature feeds, by preference, on nubile virgins. Tabloid story
She hatched in the dank
Basements of our gullibility, Warmed in the gasp of our telling, Curling in the tongues Of housewives and clerks. We gave her a body half-serpent, Half-voluptuary, and a taste For maidens and movie stars Who began to vanish mysteriously Behind the curtains of boutique Fitting rooms and water closets, Never to be seen again, Or only to be found in the parking Cellars, wandering dazed Into the headlights of shoppers cars. How she fed on our thirst For wonders, fattened on our fear Of vacant places. Slowly We embellished the patterns On her scales and admired The sinuous grace of her spine. Avidly we filled our multifarious Hungers at her belly, and lapped The marvelous tales of her forked Tongue. And as the gleaming temples Of her worship rose in the midst Of our squalor, how we trembled At the seduction of her voice, O what adoring victims we became.