Superheroes

14thFeb. × ’10

Many kids go unshielded
from many taboos,

becoming unclear
in purpose
on learning,
how to read,
why to care,
what to do.

On reaching the appropriate age
to know enough
to be afraid
of what is revealed
when they speak up,
they go
silent
(minus making a scene,
getting a laugh, being at ease
with being left out
of what seriousness means).

Suddenly they want to read (what a coup)
an article about “Halo Two,”
a long, laborious, video game review,
hold your groan, you seek escape daily,
in success’s pursuit.

Wondrous wonders when someone says,
“What does that mean,”

“What, sequel?” another deigns, ”Oh you know like…”
then trails away,
alone unable to explain.

So someone steps up, “Like one more,”
the smart contagion swells,
the snowball gains core—
“A series,” another sputters
and finally the unsure one
sure enough,
“It’s number two,
like the title,”
(with that chest puffed-up
“duh” look in his eye)—
at long last, with confidence,
he speaks up.

Right, they agree, and read on
stumbling over “innovation”
which they say is like sequel
only unrelated to what came before.

Finding this funny they laugh
the uncomfortable laughter
of teenage achievement—
a joke to be made
for every promotive
moment gained.

Then they discuss whether they want to be
heroes in this future
world or not.

“Not if I was eleven.”

“Well how old would you need to be?”

“Twenty.”

Now I find myself amused.

They turn around quickly
look at me confused
equally invested now
in weighty contemplation—
nothing funny about their potential
saving the world
nine years from now.

Education’s promise persists;
the posturing
of prospective superheroes.

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