Superman's Dead

This piece was born out of a little challenge I set for myself. After putting my iPod on shuffle and getting a page worth of song, artist and album names, I wanted to make a cohesive poem that used as many references as possible. Although the final product is considerably shorter than it began, you may still be surprised by the amount of references I was able to fit in.

It feels good to know you’re mine. Now drive me far away.

I don’t care where,

just far away.

Im freely sipping the best coffee this side of I-don’t-care-where-just-far,

a retro-fabulous diner, Nighthawks vibe,

feels so da da da dun, da dun da da.

Just another day,

which is to say that Time has become inconsequential,

I outlasted her—tough ol’ bitch.

Now who is Queen of England? The Sultan of Swing? The Keeper of Gramercy Park?

I am everything to anything left over,

lord and master wherever I may wonder.

My cup is overfull but never runs,

it did boil once—one of those “catastrophes”—

with violins and tears and fears and that tired-dire-end-of-this-mad-world.

But never fear, Everlast, is here! Single-handedly

SAVED THE WORLD, and preserved it in this comic book,

like some crazy Dorian-Gray-role-reversal-bullshit-whatever.

Can you explain to me how, you’re so evil, how?

It’s too late for me now, there’s a hole in the earth,

I’m out.

Jagged little pills aren’t helping:

The nosebleeds came more often,

until the blood just didn’t stop flowing.

I run my fingers through stringy black hair,

it falls away in clumps,

reveals a desert-head beneath,

a landscape worthy of O’ Keefe,

dry and cracked and itchy,

parabola above and the parabol underneath,

a fiery sunburn under the skin, tough ol’ bitch.

No reason for alarm or panic! at the disco

I am as permanent as a painting,

and the glow I radiate is so bright…

Stronger, even, than the Dime Jukebox in the corner,

playing the Last-Song-Ever

A catchy tune,

sad though, ironically stoic,

like statues left without audience or caretaker.

Monolithic, imbued with the sense of a grand gesture

unfulfilled.

SM Winter 2009-2010