An Apology to the Video Game Boss
I’m sorry that I shot you in your weak point.
When you tripped on the mines,
(that I laid)
Your back was exposed, and on it, the big gleaming eye,
Yellow and bulbous,
That you normally cover with a shield of concrete-hard chitin,
Stared up at the world in panic,
And I blasted it with an electrified shotgun.
In my defense, my cat does the same thing,
Lying supine, her soft underbelly vulnerable to my tickling hands
And she loves me.
The only difference, is that in your world, my hands are guns,
And the only way I know to play with you,
Is to kill you.













