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Edward Hopper at the OK Corral
I live in the city
inside electricity.
My Saint of Dark Tomorrows
caresses blonde fireworks,
digs her tongue into the right ear,
and starts her ablutions.
Batman faces them demons inside
in the center of a helipad
on top of a bank building.
Alarms clang through the Museum of Poison Pen Letters.
A vampire lifts his head,
the warp core breach is imminent,
and blood drips from his chin onto the nun's wimple.
He becomes mist and flees down a corridor.
Spider-Girl hugs a gargoyle
and cries long and hard.

This poem appears in the 2006 Anthology
View all poems by Chris Toll