Come with me you rare and dangerous beauty
Let’s find what no one else can
Some heroic, illustrious personalities
What’s sorely lacking to this land
Heroes today are out running around fields.
Kicking hide at one another, throwing dried out dusty leather.
To crown themselves king of cutting big deals.
As the Valkyries circle on above, like frustrated seagulls,
For whom no one is dropping a scrap.
The Fates have always weaved the lives of heroes
Spinning for them dashing quests, far away.
But the Fates these days are sitting ‘round weaving jerseys.
And lime-green practice vests, for terrible pay.
But when you see your childhood hero
In a bad moustache, mustard dripping down his chest.
Don’t you fret a single moment—
Achilles and Hercules would have got their beer bellies
If they’d managed to live long enough.
So you see heroes are fleeting.
But they, in all their shapes and heights.
Are all something we aspire to.
That’s what they do.
Let’s find a hero today.
So let’s bang and crash and see who comes running.
In this day and age, let’s look for that rare trait.
He who feeds the man outside December city hall.
She who pulls the man back from head-on bus sprawl.
Who tells the Valkyries they can go home.