This is a step in my story
when the ragtag affiliation
of superheroes—willful, egoistic,
well-intentioned—must recognize
the extent of collateral damage
incurred during Act II
and somehow become
a Team, one one-willed saintly body.

Gathered from disparate lives:
The Conductor, self-appointed leader,
who keeps the trains
running on time (formerly known
as The Administrator or Captain Tightship);
The Husbandman
with his wide straw hat
and the power to slow down
and stick around;
the impassioned, anarchistic Mad Doctor
Love, who sees what others cannot,
joined by his circus-trained sidekick Stuntboy;
The Werewolf, also known as The Human
Penis; and The Great Depressio
whose power is to remember
bad things and forget good things
and listen to songs on repeat.

What can unite these members
and their divided visions
of past and future,
saved worlds? Moments spent in love
for this city, here, today, tulips already
here and fading and gone, old men walking
old dogs, holy days when heroes are washing
their costumes.

Today they step anonymously,
breathfully through parks,
across railroad tracks,
into inner sanctums
to press their hungry bodies
against the resounding roundness
of quieting bells.