g. bowers, agent of ARROYO (alternate reality rectangles of youth ordained)

the funnies, to answer no question,
like NANCY and PEANUTS and such,
made windows to buttress the bastion
a kid needs to starsky his hutch.

in book form were comics like X-MEN
and BATMAN and HERBY and PEP
realities strange as a henchman
DICK TRACY would trace and–nab?–yep!

some funnies were crack-us-up laughable:
UNfunny but suited for sneering,
some wisecracking dialogue affable,
some action distractive-to-veering.

some artists belonged in asylums,
and some of their work in the Louvre,
some classics were seek-ems-&-buy-ems,
some stuff from the Sixties a grouvre.

the best should be well-wrapped in plastic
and kept from acidity’s harm;
leave stretching to Mister Fantastic;
seek Scarlet[t] (Johansson? Witch?) charm.

the kid in us all is eternal.
the youth is within to arrange;
it’s true just as Springtime is vernal;
just DOCTOR with touches of STRANGE.

(Afterverse note: I admit to a strong Silver Age Marvel bias.)