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hero

I could never be a superhero.

I have an aversion to tights.

I did not even where them when I danced with the ballet.

Last Saturday, my oldest son and I went to the local Comicon. For those of you with lower scores on the geek scale, it is a cartoon, toy and comic book convention. Authors, artists and actors are there. Row after row of vendors with new toys, old toys, toys your mom sold at a yard sale when you left to go to college for a quarter that are now $500 toys. (Not that I am bitter, sorry mom. Smiles).

And people dress up. In costume. Like their favorite characters.

We saw Batman & pretty much his entire rogues gallery. We saw Wonder Woman. Supergirl had on these killer heels. There were crying angels. Ninja Turtles. Avengers. Captain America. Star Wars people. Star Trek.

I did not dress up.

This time.

My son talked about it the rest of the weekend. Things he saw, people he saw. Some people went all in, creating their persona—and you could tell they were having fun.

Tomorrow is April Fools. The day we look like and we create fools with our antics. It is also the beginning of National Poetry Month here in the US. Funny how those things happen at the same time. Smiles.

So, do people know you’re a poet or are you still holding on to your secret identity? why?

Are you doing anything outlandish for National Poetry Month? Poetry Flash MOb, anyone?

Let’s talk.