Spiderman . . .
. . . loves Mary Jane
Growing up, I was more a Batman guy. That, or Dennis the Menace.
Secret Identity
Secrets float; they don’t attach.
I wait for a frisson of recognition.
Hear only the faint scrape
of whispers against a chalkboard—
about me, I am sure.
In others' eyes comes shimmering:
a distorted, undulant figure:
funhouse object groveling,
inverted, prone:
a spastic hero hanging there:
my secret, secret identity.
Then a puff of the words
(murmuration of a smoke ring):
"Spiderman loves Mary Jane."
And not knowing
who Mary Jane is,
immediately,
in others' eyes,
I vanish.
In the bubble comic cloud of colors graces the fantasy world. Easy to read and roll up. Put in the back pocket. Take while you any where. Super man and Disney comics. Yes to Tarzan and Jane. Could it be? A different Lois Lane? Like where I think you could go with this Spider-Man. But there’s an error. Female spiders mage webs . Males are wandering around lurking for trouble. What you going to do Batman? Use sonar to find prey?