Just a Poem for Jack Kirbywritten by Martin Jenkins
Caught in the short term self of the present mood,
Gloom and grey skies, sheltering in a café from the rain,
Weak tea and yesterday’s Daily Mirror left by someone else.
From your bag bring out the old comic from the charity shop.
Open the pages…
Enter the four-colour world, step into your wider self.
Walk amongst stars with demi-gods and daemons in monumental bodies.
Space is not empty but full of the krackle, the flux of stuff,
Coming into being and passing away.
Figure living planets, speak galaxies.
Soar with the Silver Surfer…
Doctor Doom stands in the shadows, plotting.