OLDGUY: SUPERHERO

vs. THE BLOB

The Blob’s digesting a movie audience
downtown while the SWAT team,
waiting on the Army, hides behind
a dumpster. When the Blob spots
Oldguy strolling in his red cape,
house slippers, and myriad wrinkles,
he looks undigestible. It wonders
if he’s part of some new strategy.

Cautiously, it blocks Oldguy’s path,
then nudges his right slipper to get
his full attention and, it assumes,
send him screaming helter-skelter
down the street, like all the others.

Nothing. The Blob feels an unfamiliar
dizziness. It tries the other slipper,
its stomach now queasy. When it
raises itself to attack-height, it touches
an overhead powerline, lethal
even to blobs. Looking at the heap
of smoldering remains, Oldguy says
to an admiring cop, “Smells like
Victory.”