I: Batman

The hero is sensitive and distraught.
Driven to revenge his murdered
parents, he confronts the classic
bully, all vulgar flash and
dazzle, grotesque, intriguing.
The hero wins, but in a cloud
of darkness. It is never quite
daylight in this movie.

To avenge my murdered parents
I could live like this, with
cartoonish handsomeness and
a fashionable princess
indulging me with sex and admiration.
I would be born to wealth
and have no need to work
except on my own preoccupations.
I'd have enough discretionary income
that discretion would be merely an option.

Who murdered my parents? They 
say the bully, but money has
its own reality, and commerce
always censors dreams. A
cloud of darkness shapes this fantasy
but it is clear why in this
movie, there can be no blood.
The vampire is much too close
for concrete gore: a heart
might burst and gush.

No bully killed my parents
unless you believe that time
and the sun can sneer and
crush. They died within like the
flower that sheds its petals
and swells to a lumpy green
then withers, blackens, snaps,
and sheds its seed, or like
the tree that's forced to breed
excessive fruit: its branches
twist and dwarf under the
burden of abundance, while the
extravagance of sun and
rain and insects make
sawdust of its core.