---

by Gwen Aube

---

i watched you grow
tusks and gore
a gamer, gleefully nodding
your kill, dancing in the street
clutching that clacky keyboard
like an AK.

your London apartment was 600 square feet
you gave half away to a girl in need
bought her pain meds & loud pack.

plus paid my phone, my windsor rent,
the dinners of a thousand girls.

you probably want me to shut up
but this isn’t about you. promise. 
there are so many girls—
like-us like you; for them i am 
grateful, for them the rains fall
in forgotten fields.

but they did interview you for the google blog
and you did kill your coder boss with a crowbar
his face melting off / the desert sun /
the micro dose / the warning shot.

you packed your bags
and kept a rib 
for the road.

you did do that. 

---

---