I wake up with breathing trouble
like the air has become
that I’m trying
through a coffee stirrer.
My lungs have perhaps been flattened,
if not the rest of me as well.
Maybe I tesseracted.
Maybe I shouldn’t have taken
the blue pill after all.
I realize as I reach for my inhaler
that I do not need oxygen in this 2-D world
and just in time as well
for I barely dodge a misplaced sound effect
(it looked an awful lot like a “POW”)
as a scantily clad fist goes speeding by.
Stuck between thick lines of ink,
I try to dodge jumping spandex mutants,
who move about in body condoms,
It is only a matter of time
until they make a wanted sign
with my name in it.
Life is dangerous
when surrounded by superhumans.