Danger boy

Danger boy. He crashed, we laughed.
Plastic “C” hands opened and shut,
glowing in the dark, my first cosmic encounter.
A clown snuck the runes to a mark in a book.
We used the paper wrapping of disposable chopsticks,
hid the runes in a pocket. He found them, we laughed.

Danger Man. He resigns, I relate.
I try to inform my friends and my comrades that
he means the world, but I can't get it across.
I uncover voices once inscribed on black plastic
before me. There are more than he remembers.
I relate a living inheritance.