Sun hangs high just around noon
over sweltering streets of the Metropolis cityscape
Radiating with heat Distorting the distance
Superman can handle it
Standing statuesque atop fallen lava beast
Chin out teeth grit among the rubble city ruins
He is prepared for anything
How does he do it How does he manage
Those tights must be a killer in this heat
packed city folk clamor around the smoldering monster
He returns to a quaint home
inhabited by Lois Lane
When are you going to fix the air conditioner?
She angrily greets him with
never averting those red-hot embers of eyes she possesses
His cheeks blush, head slumps, and shoulders fall
the only heat he cannot handle.