Bracket Traffic

Traffic bracketed between

An accident

And construction

Inch by inch

Every few

Minutes

Move

As I

Cruze comfortably by

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Gaming Poetry

As Night Falls

Gunning across
a square world
as night falls,
past cows and

sheep: headed
for my bed while
hostile mobs awaken
from their day-time

slumber. Simple
in design and
construction, I
am both architect

and builder. Terra-
forming to my needs:
a wheat farm by streams;
storage vault mined

into the mountain-
side so I can hoard
gold, diamonds, coal
iron, emeralds, quartz.

Mines, forests, plains
are my real domains
in this game of
pixels and bits.

A Night In A Village Library

I am an avatar in pixilated
Iron armor, holed up in a village library
While nightmares walk at night.
I create, I destroy the generated

World around my boxy hands and feet.
Teleporting obsidian men carry
Cobblestone, dirt, sand blocks,
Changing this fantasy just like me, altering

The reality until daybreak,
Where “Save and Quit” pauses
This time and The Player
Returns to the circular existence.

When the Creepers Snuck up Behind Me (A series of Minecaft Hiakus)

Exploring mine shafts
Deep underground, torch placings
Light up the railway.

Red stone vein above
Creepers sneak up and explode-
Forced down a ravine

Sentinel mob guards overhead
Two spawned Endermen
Nearby, diamond ores in hand.

Cascading waterfall beside-
A glance to lock eyes
Aggravate both to attack.

Square feet in water
Iron connects, red flashes
Reward: ores and pearls.

Hackers Stole My Passwords

The screen showed
no document titled “password.doc.”
Planes flew in circles inside

my head. Disappeared
documents, nonfunctional email,
Internet, a digital sloth.

All subtle signs of a malicious
software designed by black hat hackers
to chip away my motherboard and CPU.

The prospect left chills
down my spin. On creeping
Internet access, website

writers well-versed in malware
and their symptoms ease
me into computer hacker lingo

where bots are street vendors,
drug dealers, or gangbangers selling
products to lag at best and kill

at worst. Several forums suggested
products free and fast acting
to cure my computer’s affliction.

Within several hours, the tower was running,
but dear document “password.doc”
was lost

in the
B i nar y
C o de.

Signs from Around the World

This machine
has no brain and
moves in mysterious ways.

A tree never
hits an automobile
except in self-defense.

Stop: can’t go
Back, left, right, or
forward.

It is very legal
to go off marked trails even though
invisible signs with worms
may chase you.

If you hit the sign,
you will hit the bridge.

Be prepared
for the unexpected, like:
now hiring fried chickens.

“Destroy the computer,” says the picket sign.
To which I replied, “That sign
doesn’t look handwritten.”