Power holstered on a hip the slang
slips and hisses like a snake,
sharp venom fingers fiddling with handcuffs
he roars like a lion
when confronted with energetic excuses.

soon he will slide
behind turbo charged expressions to keep
the world clean of crims.
what he may add
to this sterile law is a hard fist
of dollar bills taken
from alleyways of shame.
hiya, brother!

we see him steering through
traffic lanes and troubles
enjoying everyone scampering
away from his lordships chariot
winning batmans race.
bring him down to the dust.

all for a chrome plated medal
a starched salute
a piece of paper that sings
of power invested in a holster.

outside of the uniform
he feeds his pet pom
pellets of crunchy biscuits.

Author Notes

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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 7 days ago

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