Four Poems
Jess Dutschmann
I borrow my womb from
myself to be a nest for your thoughts. I want to exist as someone’s
metaphor.
I borrow my womb from
myself to be a nest for your thoughts. I want to exist as someone’s
metaphor.
Remember to feed it pills daily,
star any chart on an app. Pee on sticks
first thing each day. Aim carefully.
Wait a fixed amount of time.
How we must look when we ride through the farms and villages between holds: two women mages, soft skin bound in studded leather armor, conjuration circles ringing our proud heads.
It’s hard to remember, sixteen years later, what I found so mesmerizing about a graphically obsolete princess. The jerky, jagged game was unrecognizable to the world I remembered spending dozens of hours in.
I have never heard of the Commander
before his repeated threats of violence against me.
“I am ParkourDude91.”
“If you think I’m the type of person to let anything go, you don’t know me.”
We think video games are literature, and so why shouldn't there be literature about video games? That's the question we're hoping to answer here. Read more.