Why I Kill

[dukealien]

Why I Kill   The title is doing a lot of work here - would the poem be the same without setting the tone this way?

Most people are stupid. They don’t think  good line break, between absolute quality... and then what the narrator thinks constitutes stupidity
for themselves. Their parents teach them
how to balance checkbooks, how to wipe their ass,  specifying the things the N thinks are unimportant and easily accomplished

and then they go out in the world,
buy real estate in Maine. I don’t know  at the full stop - but maybe the setup, parents, etc., are OK, even smart, but "those people" crash out
if you’ve ever been to Maine:  there’s nothing there.  contempt for both Maine and properly-taught people, then.

A moose is only interesting
the first ten thousand times, and a woman in a flannel  "a" flannel is nicely constructed to make both generic
maybe forty-two at best.   forty-two is significant - the age of menopause, or six weeks

People like to gaze into the bacillary pools  a highfalutin way to say "germ-infested" but confused with genes and chromosomes - the N is not as smart as he or she thinks, perhaps - very neatly implied - reducing others to single-celled organisms
and say, There’s something down there
like it's an achievement being born.  as with "a flannel," reducing others to generic items without individuality or significance

They look betrayal in the face  the betrayer being their killer, i.e. the narrator?
and tell it, Fair enough. They say That’s the worst  but no, they just settle, peacefully, which the N hates
thing ever when their coffee isn’t hot.  and the N (is she a waitress getting these complaints?) thinks they have no claim on quality.  And hates them for sometimes demanding it.

(Without looking at other critique(s))...

In basic critique, this is a sophisticated look into (by looking out from) an imagined criminal mind.  It's a critique of "square John" with no imagination and little self-respect, who's constantly surprised by things the narrator takes for granted as boring.  As such, it's well done - even the error of picturing humans as growing out of primordial bacterial stew rather than complex genetic lines while making the point that they've nothing to be proud of.

Implied (very well) is the Narrator's superior right to make such judgements.  Missing, to draw a full portrait of the criminal mindset, is outrage felt by the Narrator for not having his superiority recognized, and his touchiness about perceived insults and slights - he'd call for the manager and bad-mouth the waitress if HIS coffee was cold!

It might be interesting to work that touchiness into the poem, or something along the lines of "they never see it coming" to tie back to the title.