Gotham, Christmas Eve
No one says, you should move to Gotham.
No one says, you’ll love it here.
The humans who slink through my apartments, offices, alleys--
they live in my metal bones,
my skyscraper spine.
They live inÂ
my landscape
of billboards and orange sky.
It’s Christmas Eve in Gotham:
snow slush mixed
with grainy blue road salt,
bright olive green
ornaments the size
of humans heads
on the Christmas tree downtown,
upset customers
under signs advertising “The Magic of Christmas!”
But also:
Babs rests on the couch
at Wayne Manor,
letting the holiday party cycle around her in slow loops,
lit by light and shadow.
Cassandra decorates a cookie with
miniature chocolate chips.
Kate and Renee’s shoulders touch as
Kate lights
a silver, curving menorah.
Clark flies the star to the top
of the tree.
Diana tells her third battle story, gesturing,
His army was endless, but it didn’t matter.
Of course I won.
J’onn pulls another set of brownies from the oven.
Damien hangs candy canes on the tree,
fitting them between ornaments.
To the side of the fireplace,
Bruce says to Gordon, I’m hoping next year in Gotham will
be better than this one.
I think it could be, says Gordon.
I think it could be.
I think
it could be.
@dcmarvelbingobang, Prompt: Christmas Party
