the end of games


I wrote this with the past few weeks in games culture where women are concerned in mind. I suppose thinking about the last couple of days attending [convention name omitted], the culture and events surrounding it, and 4 hours of sleep likely helped this become a thing.

Respect to those who feel the need to leave the games environment for their own safety / well-being. Respect to those who stay, even in the face of abuse.


women in games,
y’know they have it rough
loving their work
seems never enough

you’ve got to get up, stand up
for their right to exist
making impact with your words
as your fist

knowing full well standing up may be
risking losing some credibility

but what is worth more in this industry
bonus points, or visibility?

we’ve got talent up to our nose
and as we highlight,
our community grows

if we can’t stand
being critical here
perhaps the end
is actually near



From Portlandia. (Not my favourite show, but some lines ring true.)

no doubt, get loud

I dig you, darling.
Would you please get the fuck out
of my head awhile?

The earth I trudge on
groans, shrieks cautiously, and sighs,
reminders anew.
June 2005, Redondo Beach, California.
Minutes before I moved to Las Vegas.
All I can do now
is pretend I cannot hear,
save for the gavels.

water running dry

he kissed me much like that of a dying fish —
vapid, cold eyes, 
pungent body desperately flouncing about 
in the hopes 
that something significant might occur.

November 2009, Edgewater Park, Mount Vernon, Washington

spear in hand,
I deftly killed the fish
without so much as blinking. I
pierced the most tender part of him
and watched his existence fade out.