If I was a superhero,
I’d gather all the other superheroes,
And tell them of my secret secreted
Inside me, that makes me such a
Superhero, so super at being a superhero.

I wouldn’t know the sense of that,
What I’d pulled out of my magic hat,
If I didn’t see that something had landed
With a splat – like a rocket ship sat
On Mars that had made it back to Earth.

That somewhere in this circle of superheroes
Was suddenly expressed the same super seed
Of superhero sensibility in everyone of us.
We would all lean in to see it there
In the centre of the room, bright and clear:

The superhero supersonic sensibility where
Each one of us was possessed by the air
Of being a superhero. Willing to risk it all,
Life and limb, to bring it all out, nothing within,
Out on a limb, declaring it visible, inviolable,

Tangible and present, us risible superheroes!
The air electric with the potency of ‘super’,
Super-saturated, inundated, more-than-fantastic,
The atmosphere amongst us superheroic
In all dimensions, each and all sensibly


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