Goddess

In the proximity of Dunnsville,
on the Highway to Life ( as called by the locals)
Route 369 as designated on road maps,
sits in an area, generally trailer park,
a building in a lot, movie set imposing
which once had been a warehouse for used auto parts
till a fan of fans bought the property for 50 grand
and in its remodeling, sunk another 80 thousand
to make the place, where Myrna Creed first got laid,
an "altar," a memorial, tall and proud and pink
in the Alhambra style, a temple to a goddess
movie legend, silver screen queen of queens
in her prime one good looker a la dish
of she who launched a thousand ships,
a Hollywood Helen of Trojans
a heart stopper, femme fatale
like Samson's hairdresser,
a watch-your-penis, Mister
my vulva can pinch like pincers.

The museum houses Myrna's personal effects;
photos and letters aglow from fans world wide,
gifts from lovers of every shape,
and a wardrobe you wouldn't believe -
more shoes than Ismelda Marcos
bikinis, night gowns and panties
in the hundreds of pounds, if weighed.
If we could have... surely we would have,
bottled her dandruff and goddess spittle
and other valuable parts.