Super Nintendo
By Zack Smith
The rough patches
of my fingers
pick up
the remote,
resting
smooth edges
on heavily fictional surfaces,
lining up
with old wounds
and new sores.
Wires dangle
over toes,
pulling
in three directions
as the lights
amble through
the color palate,
leading
eyes to scenery.
Caps and bowls
push back
on the oldest injury
in rebellion.
On the left,
we command
the compass.
On the right,
we demand
the action.
In the middle,
we press
“START”
and into our eyes,
“START” pushes back.
