Holy Mackerel, Batman

Somewhere they are enjoying a lovely
dinner of seafood and linguine
while the one person in the party,
who either dislikes or is allergic
to fish, cringes at the blessed meal that
could so quickly send her to the
hospital or mortuary.

“But have no fear,” her son
proclaims. “Batman is here,”
with his black cape and knightly
steed to save her from
the briny beasts that haunt
her dreams and make her
wish she had been born
a grizzly, or at least a very
smart dog that wanders around
the acreage looking for
Christopher Robin,
or at least Michael Caine,
to whom it owes its
undying loyalty–
unlike the humans she
now knows.

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