Bucky, Jason Todd, and Uncle Ben
Except that what all there is now
is the will-one-day-be-retconned reality
people wondering where I’ve been
what can I tell them, except that
once in 1988 some jackass called in
over and over with a computer
voting that I’d get blown up
except that I didn’t blow up, not entirely
they’ll say I was in suspended animation
locked up in a block of ice after botching
an attempt at defusing an explosive
but really this revolving door
leading in and out of a certain heaven
that might be no place really
except that I was in reality 616
where maybe my wife is dead
(it's hard to remember now
what with all this coming and going)
but maybe I’m just camouflaged
killing a just another one of me
mostly just to pass the time
except there's nothing much I know
whether I died or not,
blown up or drowned
shot by some burglar
killed myself while not myself
all that remains
is a revolving door plot
and a god with writer's block
Copyright 2010 Amanda Martin Sandino
1 comment:
I bumped into your blog by clicking on "Next blog." Usually that leads to someone's family photos, fanfic, or some other stuff of little interest. But here is a poem that is really interesting. And you've completed 4 NaNos in 4 years? Fantastic. I just finished my first (by typewriter).
Anyway, keep writing and have a happy new year.
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