I became a superhero
because I thought that’s what she wanted.
I made a list of cool names:
Hero Man, the Cobra, Kick-Butt Guy, the Dark Stag,
but I went with Mr. Swift,
because it’s subtle, and she likes the wind.

I developed superpowers.
I sat in radioactive sludge,
let a rabid buffalo bite me,
drank plutonium,
but all I got was slight super speed
and cancer.

I bought a sweet costume,
to change into when civilians are in danger.
I wear it under my regular clothes,
so I can put it on in port-a-potties.
It’s shiny and gold and spandex,
but gives me a rash sometimes.

I held open auditions for a sidekick,
hoping a bit she would come, but not
holding my breath.
Only one guy showed up--
some kid with glasses.
His name is Lieutenant Lens.

I bought a Swift Car, and a
Swift Jet, and a
Swift Boomerang, and moved into a
Swift Cave with Lieutenant Lens, and got a
Swift Butler, who’s so fast he only works
40 minutes a week.

She wasn’t impressed,
so I got an alter ego.
His name was Joe Everyman,
and he was a Jewish banker,
but she didn’t like him,
said he was too mild-mannered.

She foils me
at every turn.
I guess that makes her the villain.
I made a list of possible names:
Ms. Evil, Vixen, Taker of Souls, the Toxic Woman,
but I went with nothing.
What’s in a name?
What’s in it?