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for decades I have observed the ritual of reading ‘The Silent Night of the Batman’ just before Christmas (Batman #219, Feb. 1970, Mike Friedrich Neal Adams). At the time it was a quietly (almost silently, I suppose) radical idea for a Batman story because it involved no direct fighting action at all except the singing of carols – and yet everything still happened by itself! Wonderful four-colour magic! I wrote a poem to explore everything happening by itself without even the direct appearence of the Batman
The Silent Night of the Batman in Batman #219, Feb 1970; writer: Mike Friedrich; art: Neal Adams; inks: Dick Giordano
the silent night
of the Batman
even while they carried
their gift-wrapped parcels
and looked to each other
with smiles of belief
the shop signs hummed
dark against the marbled fronts
while above them the quiet floors
of stone-framed windows
looked east looked south all the same
the same in an ink-black sky
enough to write a novel in a single sitting
enough to hold a fleet of stars
above the skyline taxiing slowly
then the sky turns ink-green
the rooftop gathers ink-blue attention
and leaps without step or swing
through the glass and cornice
of city vistas and breeze
to shadow the guilt
to alley the share
to streetlight the fear
and river the rose
cast high and wide to the stars until
marzipan…
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Hey, Riddler. I ❤ you. I do.
Happy Xmas!💋
All the VERY best to you and yours now and always…
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