Batman symbol V2

Say what any has, all at war fall by war at last – that’s a fact a man can grasp. My flat mandala traps sky at dark. My sharp hand, a batarang, fancy car, a castaway lad, all act my avatar. And a Barbary grammar blasts back: Bam! And Zap! Kablam! and Crash! And … and what? All drang and raw drama; a black palm hangs an arm span away – Smash – a bad man sags, all rags and mass. Glad, all afar clap as at a play (any hand can smack away all that damns). Apart, an ark sans an Ararat, a man stands at an abyss and an abyss asks, Why? All fall anyway as ash – all happy and all sad; all angst, all calm as a man that prays all day. All tasks. All plans. All Adam’s clay. And Batman? A man may pass as man and mask: a half that falls, a half that stays.

© Richard Harrison

<this is the end of the Gotham Monologues — new work tomorrow>