The Lone Ranger gallops through the suburbs,
his sidekick on the smaller horse. Legends
gather, like tumbleweed – Beowulf, Robin Hood.
He’s making for the badlands of the best
hotel, where blue-chinned ones with foreign names,
amidst the liquor and the girls, conspire…
Elsewhere, no one is wholly innocent
but in rhetorical worlds – Question Time
in the House, the lounge of the Albion,
the Synod – there are only opposites.
‘Good’ and ‘evil’ have a human shape…
The gun smoke clears and everyone is dead.
“Long live Captain Marvel!”