Genesis, Talmud thick shoe-box panel
16-bit, Aquatic sting ray-control pad
With three alphabetical nipples
And a side cross, arrows to
arouse
antipodal thumb, orienting
on-screen avatar
doppelganger of heralded blips
plosive whips
Nemesis of 8-bit, potent somehow
Failed to compete with
Chipped tri-forces
Mushrooms, smattering question marks
Ethnic Plumbers
melted in fairy tales.
Plus Nintendo had a power glove
Which Warren Cunningham down the street
Claimed he wore while untucking
The glossy drape of
Miss March 1989, hoping
To transmogrify his body
With armored strokes.
We found ourselves looking at it
An electrocuted pet
Hamster scurrying through plastic tubes
Neon meadows, springboards
Accelerated embryonic whorls
Oscillating like an escaped table saw
through circuitous scampers
Flouncing in purrs and whizzes (and)
For some inexplicable reason wearing sneakers
Always in a hurry, blessing
The forehead of frenzied
animals in
calculated bonks
Whooshing through the stalks
Japanese trees swirling
360 loop as the earth
Openly flees from its
gravitational
manacles
free-falling ellipse
(plus he rescued bunnies!!!)
Thwarting the
nefarious
Antics of Doctor Robotonik
Who hovered in a translucent pulpit
Attired in pastoral robes, we thought
Surely this mammal would save us all.
How later in life I thought about
Sonic wishing I could vertically
Trounce across cyber leas and digitalized
Gulches, the earth offering rings,
Largesse, complimentary chemical
Currency, dangling gratis buds
Ferrying you to an infinite
Credit dream world if
Only to be truncated
By jutting stalactites
Piercing in gnawing sprouts
From the bottom of the screen.
Disgruntled as fuck,
Wanting to sped up faster
Skip the in the beginning
Nothing but darkness, hewed
Hedgehog out of light
Sega genesis
first book in
the pew
bible, a call to Christian fellowship
Pausing in medias worship
To rededicate one’s self
Time, talents treasure
To something
We will never understand.
--for Russ Disbro
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