Man and Superman
The image swells and silvers
On the bit where Clarke Kent realises
It’s Lois up there, when he runs for the
Revolving door and comes out a second later
As Superman, then soars up and catches her
One-handed, and the helicopter too,
And sets both down softer than snow,
Saying only by way of explanation
That he’s ‘a friend’.
Turns out the distortion is strictly metaphysical,
An autonomic response cooked up by
The conspiracy of anima and lacrima as I watch you
Soak it all up like photographic film:
A whole heroic paradigm, ready-made for your heart
As it was for mine: fiction to blunt the heart upon
How it floors me, the dumb
Familiar leak of heartbreak coalescing
Into the realisation that all hearts start like this,
Empty chambers waiting for the flicker-flam of belief
In gods or heroes to light them up. And it hurts
Even more to see you still running after the
Credits have rolled, stiff short legs hurrying
Under your cape, and me just a man
Unable to save you.
First published on the Birkbeck Writers' Hub, June 2014
