It’s Raining Superheroes

She curled up under her cape

–lined in softest fleece

kicking off hooker boots

–that concealed bed soX

& sipped T
 
 
(she’d reconfigured

S into)

scareless of structure

figure-hugging bodysuit

exchanged

for sweats made familiar

by repeated wear–

telephone booth emblem

on nearby book the closest of its kind

. . .

whose book?

(a library borrow)

dumb?

(just overdue)

smarter in silence.

ruffling dog-ears

so affectionately careful,

she weighed back-burnered options

on all cylinders

–no longer led—

house rattling as the

L train passed overhead

(virtually unnoticed)

she bypassed

(instead of leaping)

the construct

in time

. . .

a bird

–on plane—

to suit her

plan.