Not Superman

For years, I looked up to them,
The captains and This-Man and That-Man,
The heroes in tights and capes
That didn’t look like me.

I flew through the air and pretended
I could fly, but pools were below,
Not sprawling cities or universes.

“Fireman, policeman or Superman
Isn’t who you’re supposed to be,” he said.

So I settled for sidekick and trophy—
I settled for lower pay and catcalls,
Never once flew above walls.

The Bible says man and woman
are created equal, I said to him.

He didn’t respond

And in a different world
I settled for Superwoman.