Tag Archives: superheroes

Poem wherein I try to engage my inner dog person


This morning the dog


peeled back her short-haired underbelly
to reveal a giant S. No zipper, no stitching
no sexy pull like a stripper losing magic pants


just an opening up—think first date, third beer
the time of night when details float from the cup
of a stranger’s open mouth
as moths circle a bare bulb.


So, the dog. Have you had your suspicions?
Best friend, loyal companion. Just pet your dog,
the martial arts instructor said. He was from Hawaii
wore flowered shirts, sandals. He had toes the color
of dark lager—five of them could kill you with one swift strike.


The dog. Superhero? Black and white mutt,
part Collie, herding me day after day in circles,
always leading me home.
Would she save me from a burning building?


Swoop in at the right moment
to spirit me away from the man—he seemed pleasant enough–
about to kidnap/maim/violate her hapless human?


I’ve never called her a bitch, though she wears
a pink collar, has the scar proving she could have been
a mother, if the universe hadn’t had other plans for her.


It’s all been done before, I tell her. Keep your power
to yourself.
Lesson one for lonely women
and superheroes: Never reveal your true identity.


Superman meets June Cleaver, Remarks on Her Resemblance to His Wife


A Urgent Message for the Citizens of Metropolis

He won’t show you how
he loves you
………………………(please, wash his tights, still)
but watch, if you will, how the snake
population in your fair city dwindles,
lawns, sidewalks, thresholds
free from writhing, poison, ugliness.

His flight (from you) may appear closer, faster
in your mirror—the constant glare of tail lights
……………………..(red cape must be dry cleaned)
nothing more than a signal that the end is about to begin.

Men of steel, after all. Iron sharpens iron
……………………….(no need to iron the suit)
and your pink skin, though soft as serpent flesh,
dulls the blade of his desire
to do good, fight evil, wear hearts
of the weak on his sculpted bicep.

Stand firm in your resolve
to plod one more day
on your golden streets
……………………….(what he leaves behind is precious)
your hero will return in time for dinner.


Another installment in the superhero series–light on the sex this time. Visit here or here to learn more! Really! Visit Carolee! She says it so well!

Note to self: Trying to convey the lonliness of marriage. Snakes & doe flesh don’t exactly work well together. Try different images… serpent flesh?

The Supporting Actress Gets Stage Fright


Pay no attention to that man in the chair

his horse is parked in the garage
rusted shoes nailed to the roof
for good luck. Good luck swinging

the old cowboy up and out of recline–
surgeon’s dusty trail having sliced the wind
right from John Wayne. He’ll grunt and moan

before he draws that pistol.
No need to be frightened.
Little lady, this is a movie

the blue sky is a painting
the shallow breathing is a soundtrack.
Stuff those jitters in your bonnet and learn your lines.


After a brief hiatus, wherein the mother/poet ferried the children to the mountain for some rain fun, the poet/mother has 5 mornings to herself, wherein she will continue on her quest to write scintillating poems about superheroes (or pop culture heroes in chaps).