Wonder Woman at 90
has lost a bit of her zoom.
No more rescuing
a sinking battleship full
of confused, drowning sailors,
no more squashing
evil overlords like so many
roaches in a hog trough.
No, these days she’s happy
pouring water over thirsty tulips,
lounging in bubble baths,
sipping tea every afternoon,
incognito, with Catwoman,
who, it turns out, isn’t the bitch
that liar Batman always
insisted. But don’t be deceived:
she’s still Wonder Woman. She
still keeps her bright eyes open.
Just ask the cruel fool
leering through the chain links
at kindergarten dodge ball
or the blind date shoving
his brogan in the doorjamb.
He tells the doctor
that all he can remember
is the flash of silver hair
before the sudden POW!—
before the dull crunch
of flimsy bone.
—Jo Angela Edwins