Saturday, January 9, 2010

another shite poem

Fallout 3- An Elegy for my Social Life
dedicated to the irish contingency


the neverending battle
to locate your father, liam neeson,
(a ballymena man)
spans 63 hours
at present count.

as you puzzle over blinking green codebreaking screens
cross referencing wiki pages
and occasionally getting the dog riled up at the excitement of it all

my eyes lurch from their sockets with electric strain
like a baby with a goiter
or steve buschemi in anything

watch your opposable thumbs while you sleep.

No comments:

Post a Comment