Ritual Read/Writing into the Day 6/13: Superman (Sherman Alexie), Spiderman (poem)
I never wanted to be a superhero, really. It looks like too much work. Every day it's the same thing: fight the bad guy, save the victim; fight the bad guy, save the city; fight the bad guy, save the world. Sheesh. Do they ever get a break? A day off? A thank you card, or a nice gift basket? Never seems like it. Sure, sometimes they get a hug or even a kiss from someone they just saved, but you know what? I'm married, and I think my husband would get jealous. So, that's that. And what about the costumes? Who decided that spandex would be a good idea? Not flattering, even a little. The colors are all similar, too. You could easily confuse Superman, Spiderman, and Captain America as they sped past you on the way to save someone else. Then the wrong person would get the credit! My son is absolutely convinced that his Superman t-shirt actually says Spiderman. He refuses to believe me when I try to correct him. Superman's been saving the world for, what, like 80 years, and he doesn't even get recognized as the right guy by a three-year-old Dang. No superhero work for me. No way. I would kind of like to be able to fly, though.
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