It may look like rubber to you
Like pointy little bat ears
Like it’s hard to turn my neck.
To me it’s more than a mask
It’s a security blanket
Filled with tears because MY PARENTS ARE DEAD.
And blood, but not my blood.
From that time I punched him in the ear.
Cowl cowl cowl
Fowl fowl fowl
Penguin wears a suit and I do too
Are we so different, he and I?
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain
That hides my face so the tears can flow.
Sly Ky, won’t you lick my face?
With your sandpapery tongue?
Lick clean my festering wounds
The surface ones, from when The Riddler
Trapped me in that shark tank and I got bit
And the underneath ones, because MY PARENTS ARE DEAD.
We two dark creatures of the night
Nocturnal something or others
Oh, how you rend my heart
With your mighty cat claws.
I just wish you’d stop stealing shit.
Ode to Gotham
Like a dark twisted metal womb
I emerged from you, naked and bleating
I gnaw at the umbilical cord
But Gotham, you won’t release me!
Are your insane asylums so easy to break out of?
Do you keep your stores of gold in above-ground safes?
Can’t you have better security lighting installed near the docks?
Gotham, you are my curse and savior and father and mother
Because MY ACTUAL PARENTS ARE DEAD.
With your big dumb muscles
And your big dumb sexy hair curl
And your gleaming city of gold.
I get Killer Croc, you get a giant planet-eating alien.
I get Man-Bat, you get a billionaire super-genius,
Hell-bent on world domination.
Sometimes I perch on a gargoyle high above Gotham
And think to myself, “Superman, if you had a cowl,
It’d be made of unicorn pelt.”
But I still feel you, man.
Because there’s one very important thing we have in common.
Something that inexorably binds our souls
From whence we derive guilt and pain, but also strength
And that is, of course…
We both know The Flash totally sucks.
…AND ALSO BOTH OUR PARENTS ARE DEAD.
A Haiku for Al-Ghul
Ra’s, why is your name
So hard to spell, and why is
Your mustache so smooth?