Super Tuesday did not turn out right.
Ouch! Trump won without much of a fight.
Bullets aimed at his chest
bounce right off. I suggest
the Establishment needs kryptonite.
(for Regina Phelps)
I’m looking through the pupil of an eye.
I am relieved: the eye’s not glowing red;
No bolt of energy is set to fly
In the direction of my balding head.
I see the green of Kryptonite instead:
The Supergirl within her eye contains
The very stuff of her defeat, I’m led
To reason with my evil mutant brains.
But to destroy her I’m not taking pains.
The darkness of that pupil is to me
A universe of life while it remains
Part of my villainous reality.
It renders me one helpless evil guy—
Though she and I do not see eye to eye.
(for Matt Thornton)
His greatest challenge isn’t kryptonite
Or Mr. Luthor’s latest ruthless scheme.
It isn’t falling from a lunar height
Or being on a troubled superteam.
For Superman, the challenge is to seem,
In a world full of weaklings, slow and frail,
One of us, not in any way extreme.
Clark Kent is always just about to fail—
And, if he does, then Terran types will wail
The lamentations feared by superears.
Broken by accident, they’ll rise to rail
Against him, supercause of all their tears.
The thanks I offer him are vast and free:
He hasn’t yet annihilated me.