Tore off a hit of Superman
stuck it under my tongue
flew a krypton dreamworld
concentricities around the sun.
Were I not in the
armchair of my father
no farther than the living room
t.v.
Silver Surfer slaked
his thirst for thrills
downskiing our worn
rug stairway.
Flexing himself heroically
for the queen
of the airway
still Lois Lane loyal
to that man who said
"fly me"
the original
under my tongue
"Golly Clark you must be spent!"
"No, not with
friends like these:
Aquaman, Drabble, Judge Dread and Hulk.
It’s allies Jimmy
That’s the bulk of the matter
in the philosophy of
the way out
comics trip."
At dinner Dad said there were
no more heroes
that Plato, Aristotle and Homer
were all dead.
Maybe he just doesn’t
understand.
Hidden in the funny pages
are this age’s sages.
And in class the teacher
she scolds me a daydreamer
I retort with hypernatural tongue:
"What is this noncommital
dreamscape fluff you’re
showing me? This little boy
‘see Scott run’ stuff?
"Get your head out
of the clouds and
take a gander.
"Come.
"Follow me now and
my superfriends somewhere
over uncharted domains of
meander."
2 comments:
nice poem "Stevie Sis" came to check out your site on this historic day... and though the allman bros. won't be playing the white house i still here the echoes of '78.... how young and optimistic we were...
how middle aged and optimistic we are now
your old pal Darren
Hey Man!
Good to hear from you! I thought nobody liked that poem, but you're definitely somebody. I'm glad you're excited and on board with what's happening politically. Sometimes, in middle age, it seems safer to withhold our enthusiasm.
Fondest Regards.
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