A Love Poem for Batman by John W. Snyder

Darling,
I call you out each night
just so I can show you
what I’m still willing
to tear down for you.

Sometimes
I imagine you hiding in the dark
waiting for the screams.

This is all for you, you know.

The blood on the walls,
the blood on the street.

All the blood!

I spell out sweet nothings with my fingers.

Unlike you,
I never had a problem getting my hands dirty.

You answer back with your perfect jowls
and explosive fists.

After all, what kind of daddy would you be
without giving a good spanking now and then?

I don’t mind.

I take comfort in knowing you won’t ever let this lonely grid of stone stay lonely for me.

Even in the daytime
cracked skull echoes
echo you name.

I see bats in the veins
I play like violins.

You were always there,
even in the beginning.

I remember that first date,
a beautiful night-punctuated by gunfire and moonbeams.

I was in my best tux.
And you,
you were so ornery you had me bent over a big vat of chemicals
before we even got to dessert.

You undressed me so well with your claws. That kind of love can drive a guy
mad.

If you’ve ever skinned someone,
you know,
it’s a lot easier getting the skin off than it is getting it back on.

It gets all gooey and slippery—just a mess.
You skinned me into a new man, darling.

You made me—
with your justice,
and your strength,
and that acid.

So, though you may have tried remembering who we were before

we can never stop dancing.
You need me now.

You made me.
And I remake you every night.

Never stop playing

Father.

Never stop playing with me

batty-daddy.

Because you made me

but I didn’t ask to be made.

John W. Snyder
John W. Snyder is a Pushcart nominated poet from Staten Island. He is most known for being a chatchki walking around in a human suit.

 

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