Super Nintendo

Comments (0) Issue 3, Poetry, Writing

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.

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