Three BioShock Poems
Chelsea Margaret Bodnar
SPIDER SPLICER APPLIES
FOR SATURNINE
MEMBERSHIP
photos of dead enemies are still worth / something / item of equal / or lesser value / the thing that isn’t killing you / now lying still / in its bed of molted roses // its bed of ammunition / inventory full / spilled over / the coils of buckshot spiraling / telekinetic / lullaby to a weapon // a club you only qualify to join / if you can vanish // that would never / ever / have you as a member / that joke you forget exact words of // forget why it was funny / as your hooks / cry into metal bulwarks // cry into skin of the thing / you thought was symbiote / another bad deal handed you / another five star restaurant / of rotted meat |
THE REAL PARASITES
WERE THE FRIENDS WE
MADE ALONG THE WAY
but how are you the badguy when his arms are full of bees? you phase, smoke-blossomed love-me-not, you’re minding your own business. when they find your recording, the last one, will they catch you crying? when they’re playing through your cave & what you’ve written on the walls, your mask from the party, the ivory of the face across its skull. yours are nonsense words, the letters shaped like animals. what kind of a man turns to mist underwater / expects any closure from the pyre that can burn and keep burning? that’s funny—you must be embarrassed. or you must be livid; oh darling, your face is on fire. |
THIS IS HAPPENING
BEFORE
when you ricochet // the head bloomed / into its present state / of haloed clot // I’ll miss the gorgeous letters / your books on tape / out on a ledge / that gave me something to do // your dear diary / I’m suspecting / I am through // I am playing out / my heartstrings // this decade without sun // the worship / of a songbird / laced into its baby blue / bonnet / of sky // the dead dog / copy-pasted / its same small crooked paws / around this corner / and the next // of course / you feel bad // but the girls / are all dressed alike / are all missing the same button / every one that crawls / out of the wall / overwriting the last / to the diminishing return / of your mercy /// |