Superman

By Maggie Su

 

Superman 

flew like a pussy. 

The clouds forgot him, 
slapped him around like 
father’s after work ritual. 

Of course, he would fall 
to Earth. Not as a hero, but 
burning flesh and spandex. 

Good. 

The bird didn’t look down 
but the release was a gift. 
Above him a veil of white, 
beneath him a boiling street. 

Shit stained, de-winged he falls. 

Black loafers and high heels 
pick their way past a mouth, 
white teeth full of flies. 

Sidewalk smudged red, 
white, and blue. 

Good. 

Maggie Su is a native of Champaign, Illinois.  She is currently earning a BA in English and Creative Writing at the University of Illinois.

 



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