I’m no fan of gore
nor button mashers,
but when you speak to me
as if from pixelated reality
get over here and finish
me, I equip my knit cap
and fight sub-zero temperatures
to be under sheets with you
in all the fatalities
of the heart. We die
many times in each
other’s arms
inputting
the proper combinations.
We are reckless
when we love– we attack,
we defend, I watch
the blood flush out of us
asking if you will love me
always. When that lands,
I’m finished.
(originally published in Stickman Review, Fall 2023)
video game
Fall Guys
gonna be a good dive
pink windmills spin forever
I thanked you already
I am always thanking you
consider this next apology all ready
dizzy heights
I’ll file in the hi Sara folder
maybe I will choose to drop
down to blue under-surface
where everyone’s at I miss that
you mean I’m supposed to grab a tail
with these conveyor belts & keep it
I don’t know my role
but the walls
have googly eyes & I don’t mean
the stampede at the checkered line
these same damn races every time
I’ve never watched the procession after me
don’t worry you haven’t done anything wrong
yet
the situation’s complicated
continue
(originally published in One, Fall 2022)
Two Best Friends
I skip pebbles in milk
while Colorado calls
my name an open field
prayer hands clasped
with two best friends
I have not seen
in years pass clouds
over the Rockies and I
am drunk staring at
my past blue yearning
the rain-drenched range
I write and ring cells
still new cities call
my name with headphones
on I play The Last of Us
in dark glow hands reach
for two best friends I sit
in silence happily
(originally published in Pennsylvania Bards Western PA Poetry Review, Spring 2023)
Two Days Before Final Fantasy VII Remake, Bernie Ends His Campaign
to play a game is to simply look into a void I need
to limit the amount my eyes (or else the world’s
but a buttercream) I dream I dream in pixels
nostalgia of many Midgars transformed in what to partake
but all these riches of revolution memory is a waterfall
rushing headfirst cold into pointy rocks I wanted to forget this good
game with you knowing neither of us could afford the new
(originally published in Marias & Sampaguitas, Summer 2021)
Safe Basements
red morning
light drapes the fog of
stage left everyone
left up up down down left
right left right B A START
1994
white socks blackened
jungleworld
the base the base
swamp playgrounds woodchips
bruises kneescrapes
black eye blank
avoid contact
years until a second player
amazing to be unlimited
one can falsely attribute
an escape
helicopter
or i could’ve gone
upstairs
(originally published in I Want You to See This Before You Leave, Summer 2020)
World Series, 2019
First baseball game I’ve seen this season– game seven
of the World Series, Houston versus Washington. A sea
of orange in Texas. Scherzer versus Springer. Joe Buck
talks about muscle injections, pinched nerves, breaking
ball– full count. He says this series is full of big swings,
big emotions– isn’t that a normal week? Dad watched
every Cleveland game. Ever. For a summer I did,
too, but October is chillier than usual. Last week, we
buried my oldest brother. We used to play sports
games– Triple Play 2000, Gran Turismo– on the
basement’s cold, brown carpet, where all physics
hurtled toward inevitable destinations: a ball singing
through the air into a blurry glove, or tires spinning
through some grainy tunnel. We’d trade wins, half-
luck, but there was always a conclusion. Last year,
I held his hand in the hospital. He squeezed my
fingers and said what he couldn’t with his eyes.
Last week, he didn’t get the kidney he needed.
When Washington wins, I see men cry on each
other’s shoulders. When my brother dies, my brother
cries on my shoulder. I cry on his shoulder.
And when we look at each other,
we find someone we both miss.
(originally published in Knot Literary Magazine, Fall 2021)
Fall Guys #2
all this balance nothing to show for it
seesaw the most patient of virtues–
patience
get up god damn it
when you fall can you please get the fuck up
lemons fire from cannons
zest on my back
& I am always running
can’t say the words right in my head
but in the glitch of No Music just levers clicking
& motherfuckers shouting woo! in the sorry
white
sky
(originally published in TRIBES, Fall 2021)
Music Enough to Make One Mad
i walk in a line and shoot and shoot i walk in a line and shoot and shoot i walk in a line and shoot and shoot i walk in a line and shoot and shoot i walk in a line and shoot and shoot i walk in a line and shoot and jump and shoot and jump and walk in a line to music decadent in my brain on a loop a loop and through the gates it follows wherever i go wherever i slide i slide i slide inside and walk in a line and jump and shoot and walk in a line and jump and slide and the music is always the always the major key hooks and bridges no matter my life the music the same and i am so close and i am so close and i walk in a line and jump and
miss
(originally published in an alternate form in Dangerous to Go Alone! – a video game poem anthology)