A yellow exclamation mark floated over her head. I right-clicked, and after quickly scrolling through her nonsense about a brother killed by goblins, I received eight gold coins and 350 experience points. “Uh huh.” My girlfriend sighed over the phone.
I waxed a valenced enemy to ones like these, mawkish and mutant, I shot them
bodiless, a bunch of vapors in the cool. So it continued: new raptors, ghost bricks,
a face on four stems.
Check pieces of heart: little girls popcorn-
kernelling from your spoils. They’ll ask
to fashion a trellis from third & fourth
ribs on your left side (hey! listen!) a temple
to shapes you take: child – wolf – tree-mask.
In a town a general store
is still general, its shelves warp
under dichotomies. Do we buy the food
or take the ammo? Saloon doors are never quite shut.
A family in a wagon is called a party.
I broke this spectrum
with my teeth
Or else It
broke
in my hands My
sense of touch
Gone
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.
