"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray
"Poetry unites." ~Anon
"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson
Written by Collin Kelley
He lives in Atlanta, Georgia, USA
His blog: Collin Kelley
Originally appeared in Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Secret Origins of the Super-Villains
The comic book arrives in the mail,
found on eBay, sold by a stranger,
my childhood memory only $10
I’ve wanted this since I was six,
the oversized DC for $1.00,
cried over its disappearance
from the rack at Grant’s,
my parents screaming at each other
over why they wasted money
on Lion Country Safari,
when all I wanted was the comic:
Secret Origins of the Super-Villains.
The cover emblazoned on my brain,
a holy grail for almost thirty years.
Superman, Batman, The Flash,
and Wonder Woman all hard-charging
toward the enemies, Lex Luthor,
The Joker, Captain Cold and Cheetah.
Now I have it in my hands, and it means
nothing. It’s as perfect
as a summer day in 1975, unscarred by time,
pristine in plastic wrapper.
Maybe I just wanted that year back,
and the twenty that followed.
To take those days, put them under
lock and key or on a high shelf,
protected from damage.
Maybe I just want to believe,
like when I was five,
that someone could save me.
Could keep my parents together,
save people from dying,
and buildings from falling.
Even at thirty one, sitting in front of a TV
on a blue September morning
as the planes crashed in NYC,
I held out hope there might be a Superman.
Posted with consent from the writer.
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