I've never fathomed humans’ ravening need—
lampooned in Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick—
for superheroes. Yet I will concede:
that recent movie good guys make my dick
get up and tap dance serves sufficiently
as common ground. For instance, Charlie Cox,
who couldn't be more aptly named: can we
burn all Daredevil’s tops and set his box
in neoprene relief instead? And yo,
Luke Cage:
why ruin all those jeans and hoodies
with bullet holes? Just leave ’em hanging, bro.
(The clothes, I mean, not Mr. Colter’s goodies.)
And how does Aquamomoa
require
more than a Speedo? Wardrobe, I’m for hire.
[2018 September 5]
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