Super Nintendo

Comments (0) Issue 3, Poetry, Writing

Super Nintendo

By Zack Smith


The rough patches

of my fingers

pick up

the remote,


smooth edges

on heavily fictional surfaces,

lining up

with old wounds

and new sores.


Wires dangle

over toes,


in three directions

as the lights

amble through

the color palate,


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


and into our eyes,

“START” pushes back.

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