Bunny's Massage Emporium

I go for a massage
at the local massage parlor.

every muscle in my body is sore
from playing basketball
and work.

I stumble upon
Bunny's Massage Emporium,
a new place where the yoga studio
used to be
and before that a taco bell.

cash only the neon sign flashes.

what's it gonna be, Bunny says
when I come through the door.

she's an enormous woman eating
a sub sandwich. her hair is blue.

ummm, a massage? I ask her in
that strange way
that people talk now,

saying something while asking
a question.

full? she says, wiping
a dollop of mayo
from the corner of her mouth.
somewhere
beneath her kimono is a stool
she's sitting on.

sure, I tell her, shrugging.
full. I guess,
front back, etc. you know.
a massage.

are you a cop? she says.
we need to frisk you.

a man comes out of the shadows
like Boo Radley and pats
me down.

he's clean, he grunts, then goes back
into the dark corner.

okay, bunny says, and whistles for
the girls to come out.

the massage therapists, I guess,
line up like pastel soldiers.

most are in slinky night gowns,
pale greens and blues, pinks and yellows,
fishnet stockings

and stiletto heels. lipstick
and perfume. big heads of fluffy
Baltimore hair.
some are stretching their arms
out, yawning as they crack
their knuckles.

i'm really looking for a deep tissue
massage, I tell Bunny, pointing at a spot
in my lower back, then shoulder.
right below the third vertebrae.

I had a rough week at work climbing
ladders. i'm really sore.

Bunny yells out, and points
to a girl in the back row,
Betty, you're up.

Betty steps forward, a tiny little
girl with big hands.
she's wearing knee pads
and a construction helmet
with a light on it.

she says something
in Russian then starts
down the hall, wagging her man
sized finger
for me to follow.

you got one hour, bunny says,
searching with a long red straw
for one last slurp
at the bottom of her drink.

if there's any extra charges,
we'll collect at the end.

Extras? I say, going down the hall,
tripping
on a cat lying on the floor.

that's right. and remember,
we'll be watching, so no funny stuff.