I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that comic book superheroes have become so ubiquitous in culture that they've even invaded poetry, and I have little interest in wading into that debate [today].
I do find it intriguing that even as actual sales of comic books are at their lowest ever, their cultural currency continues to increase (not without limit, however. The genre runs risk of over-saturation in the movies, at least).
However, I was immensely startled when I read this poem, available as a free read on the website of the Paris Review, of all places. It's a wonderfully evocative piece, suggesting the alternate push and pull between God and man, a tension that results in superheroes and supervillains, Sinestro in this case.
Or I'm misreading everything and it's about nothing more than a roller-coaster.
Either way, enjoy!
THE NITRO by Clare Rossini
I wanted sky. That was my ambition. And now I'm being tugged A burly chain beneath the car hauling my weight Then the slow turn downward, Toward the earth from which, with a paste of mud and spit, Story, the god Upward again, turning and writhing in air, my body become a space The great forces stream through: O my god, I hear the cries of those around me as we are borne up and Our breath three Hills back. As with a sudden jerk, a brake At the platform milling with the shades Glossing popcorn stands, the carousel's splintered mirrors, and Dressed as Sinestro from the Legion of Doom, his power ring strobing,
Up a small steel mountain,
And a trail of my fellow aspirants. Poised at the top, we waver.
The gathering speed, hurtling
In that one foreboding
Made the man.
Where, as in love,
Space, wind, light, the seconds blurring by like years.
Down and up and down,
Tubular steel
Let this not end, my body says and, at the same time, Let it be done,
Catches, the train slows, we arrive
Called the living. Down the ramp. Back to a frail rain
—Hey! It's some dude
Scattering the crowd.
-The Paris Review Spring 2011
