Lost

Where is Superman?

As I still inhibit this arid planet, he is not there.

Ten, twenty, thirty years gone?

And yet in the hopelessness and tragedy that fills my generation

I think if I trace across the chasm of years I will find him again.

Where is Superman?

Looking to his wrist as he gets off the train?

And though people were crying into the streets,

He stood, in a trance-like state, hating the world of men.

His black and white figure fading yellow on the newsstands.

Is there anyone there? I recall asking

But too late, I see now how the world will end.

When Superman has lost his sense of purpose.