I Couldn’t Fall in Love with Aquaman

I wanted to. I expected to.

But the cinema seats were deep 

and soft, and tilted back … and 

there was all this fighting….

(Battle scenes – even underwater –

I always find incredibly boring.

I’m a chick, OK? Not a bloke.)

It was good to see Our Nic,

slim and beautiful as ever

in a role that was ‘different’ for her,

as Aquaman’s mum – great acting

not really required this time, 

although she did all right. I figured

she must have wanted a job

that would bring her home to Oz

(that’s what we Aussies call it)

for a while, and her birth family.

And they shot it just up here

at Hastings Point in the heart 

of our sub-tropics. She’d have known

how beautiful, with what great weather.

Even if Nicole couldn’t keep me awake –

and I’m a fan – you’d think Jason Momoa

would’ve had me glued to the screen.

But no, off I nodded. Afterwards I decided 

it wasn’t a problem of the heart; just that

it was never Aquaman I lusted for –

nor even cheerful, good-natured Jason

(or so he seems to be, in interviews).

No, it was always Khal Drogo, from the first

instant he appeared onscreen in my home telly.

I don’t even go for large, well-muscled men;

I like ‘em lean and hungry, thoughtful, 

and able to make me laugh. Well, usually. 

The Khal shattered every preconception 

I’d acquired in my seven decades of life 

until that moment, and furthermore

turned me young again. Oh, he was 

something else! But he wasn’t there

in that silly Aquaman film.

The NsPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem about, or involving, a superhero. The Poem A Day prompt was to write a '(blank) of the Heart' poem, and/or a 'Heart of the (blank)' poem.