Leapt another tall building today.
Never seem to tire of that stunt, only
the buildings get higher every time. The police
hauled me in for questioning, but since I didn't
break anything they let me off with a warning.
Didn't tell them about the dented train,
that near-miss with the 747. These days
I keep my habits private. I try.
Actually I've not stopped a real bullet
for some time now, not in this city. Since we
all went public. My rivals got day jobs.
Hear Braniac's new start-up is climbing
the Fortune 500. Darkseid's advising the
boys from Defence. And Lex has turned up
on the cover of Time. Again. Last week
they cut staff at the paper. My section.
You'd think a man who could do
anything, at least could keep
his woman. Two nights ago she left.
Said I couldn't open up, let anyone into
my weakness. Said she wanted children.
Used the word "Freak". I don't think
she's coming back this time.
I don't sleep anymore. I don't dream
I'm an alien. I remember less and less
of my childhood, the cornfields in Iowa
(or was it Kansas?) Sometimes I lie there
wondering why I was sent here of all places
instead of a war zone, a revolution,
another city that still needs a hero.
I've thought about moving. Of course
I've taken vacations. Tibet, my Arctic hideout,
the outer planets. I went to Mars once,
but there was nothing. Nothing there at all.