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Byron Keith Taylor:

Mercury Falls on a Cold, Dark Knight

Posted on March 31, 2016 with 0 comments

This poem was published in 2013 in National University's literary journal, The GNU. Hope you like it!:)


Mercury Falls on a Cold, Dark Knight


For years I have patrolled the streets of Gotham City at night

bound by a code of law to protect the innocent, punish the guilty,

and deliver justice by any means necessary without killing.

I cannot kill; that is my boundary.


Now I feel as if I may cross it but instead with my own death

because the weight of Robin's death is suffocating me.

The Joker finally won and I am exhausted with grief.

Jason was my son, his mother told me, and now there is no heir to my mantle.


Far too late to make plans for his future now; the grave before me

stabs at the dark as it widens my gaping wound of doubt.

Did I care enough to save Jason in time before he was blown to bits?

Or did he forget something in his training?


Who cares if Wayne Enterprises suffers from the recession?

Would you care? Lucius Fox cared enough to quit.

Who will build my new devices now?

Will you?


My cowl is peeled like a plum ripe with the juices of my tears.

My Kevlar skin is wrinkled as if it were in the sun far too long.

No matter; Rhas Al Gul's daughter has joined me at the grave site. No matter.

Love has no place for an Oedipal detective with wings. No place at all.


How did she discover my identity? I breathe cold tendrils that have reached my heart,

look at her beautiful face adorned with green eyes and long auburn hair.

Snow drifts on both of us as she holds my gloved hand

And we both are frozen in front of a gray tombstone.