I,
a cybernetic wolf man
by the name of Brad Fang
with gatling gun for arm
and sunglasses for eyes
and loneliness for heart
You,
a snaggeletoothed dinosaur
of indeterminate species
a stray Spread Gun shot tickles your nose
out comes a sneeze
a shotgun blast of white-hot plasma
Scampering up an incline
I blast phallic alien bugs
when what seemed to be a mossy mountain
turns out to be your neck
one googley eye meets mine
unlocking a powerup of internal feelings
And I wonder
have you heard of Noiman Cascade
the hacker with a supercomputer lair
beneath a garbage dump
nothing in his Virtual Zone of homicidal mini-bosses
(he's just trying to make a buck)
hurts quite as much
as the sweet lingering memory of you
and your explosive
sneezes
–
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