He used to prance around in nothing but
pink rayon underwear
and a smile;
watching Sesame Street,
he would wile away the time
defeating evil stuffed animals
with the power of flight,
for here was a vigilante with style.
In his superhero mind,
crime fighting with his sidekick,
childhood was brought to
to him by the number infinity
and the letter A for “Awesome.”
Until he heard
through the grapevine
that oversized birds can’t fly,
like emus and ostriches and
Golden condors or canaries with
a case of morbid obesity,
and why was he still watching
Didn’t he know that show was for babies?
Before school began,
he would dance about
wearing spandex outside his pants
to win over bad guys with his fashion sense.
Pink was his favorite.
The color of warriors,
the color of knights and champions,
the color of victory over the wicked.
His classmates begged to differ.