Poetry

Kaizo Block*

So much is defined by the shape of our pain.
The scar on my arm where my thumb rubbed through layer after layer of skin.

Mega Man

I learned his patterns, parried his bombs,
got all up in his face, all up in his guts.
If I kept him running, he could never fire.

You Cannot Save Here

My favorite apocalypse
happens halfway through
as in, everything comes down
and you’ve got to keep going

Three BioShock Poems

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