I just hate bein a goomba, if you couldn't tell.
I get stepped on all the time and hit by koopa shells!
Bowser's always yellin at me and telling me to go,
but he can't even stop that Super Mario!

King Koopa's laughin high up in his tower,
as he's pointin down at me.
Here they come with Fire Power!
Super Mario and Luigi!

I could'a been a man eater,
or even a koopa troopa.
Might'a  been a bottom sea feeder.
I just hate bein a goomba.

I’m hanging up my dungarees,
And doing so for good,
The video game cover art doesn’t
Acknowledge me like it should,
My brother gets his name in lights,
While I do half the work,
All the sibling rivalry,
Is driving me berserk,
I can beat the Koopa Troopas
And stomp on Bowser too,
But I only see the light of day
If there’s a player two,
And they’re rarely ever any good,
I never reach the bosses,
It’s always game over screens
And endless 1-up losses,
So I’m hanging up my dungarees,
For the final time,
I won’t go saving Peach tomorrow,
I’ll start towing my own line,
There’s no Goombas and Koopas,
Out there that I’m needed to startle
And for some reason, it’s always your princess,
Not mine, who’s in another castle.

Can I show you how beautiful you are? Can I take out the old photo albums and push my index finger into the faces, the places, and seas? I want to peel back the plastic and remove the square photographs from their sticky setting. I'm alluding to ideas that exist more formidably on the internet- there are no paper photographs, no sticky settings, there aren't even faces in the numbers; it's only ever been you or me.

Some of my things are crooked. The strings don't work, the wires are twisted and make the sounds all come out funny. There's a strange buzzing everywhere, it's like Mickey's gray cloud, a cloud Koopa throwing spiked shells from Park Avenue beach to Montrose street. Everything is quiet, consuming, unassuming and still recalcitrant. I'm showing nothing to nobody. Coaxing storm systems and netting foul play and ***** tricks, with my pants around my ankles or my fly unzipped.

I'm stinking of this stuff. These sudorific crevices on the insides of my thighs. I'm more or less always pacing. Rocking. Rolling. Small room I'm living room, cadavers I stuff my skinny fingers inside of- cold, wet hollow places I'm seeking skin covered gods in. I'm craving tastes and flavors. I'm looking at these pictures of me, of my face and the clothes I wore, the people that knew me. Where have I disappeared to? Every place that I went, every condition of my humanness has gone. Five minutes past my certainty, squirting hot molten magma from my ****, my lips, and my fingertips. Hysterical thoughts and homily. I want just a hello. I want just a hello.

Me and the crew riding around in the PT Cruiser.
Soda oozin' out the cup like the one of Biggest Loser.
Don't let the insults be spiky, like the shell of King Koopa.
Goin' back and forth : we in the movie Looper.
Be chill like the Buddha.
Dude, uh, I think you dropped your burger.
Electric surger blew up like the Time Warner merger.
The inside of our place on fire ;
The officer called us liars.
Wanted to throw us in the manor on the Cliff of Briar.
Yeah, it's an American Horror Story.
Being profiled because of ethnicity,
We're Mexican, see,
But we're not gonna steal something worth $3.50.
Looking at us like monsters of Loch Ness.
Yeah, we may come from a pool of cess
But you're simply too incredulous
To think of a time other than 1955.
You can ruin our lives
And throw us in jail in the blink of an eye.
Don't even need to find
A shred of evidence to kick our behind.
You feel like we're behind your back
Cocking our guns with a slight click-clack.
About to shoot them off with a ratatatat
While we're caressing our "gang tats".

But that's not how it is.
You think we all give weapons to kids?

Jamming turtles for me.

900 lives later,

I finally kilt koopa.

I feel like mini Mario at castle uno when he defeats Little Koopa. You know how that feels right? Well, exactly like that.

You be Lex

and I’ll be your Supa

I’ll step on you

like Mario does Koopa

We’ll fight it out

cuz we love to hate

losing the end

From a winner’s fate

beat me to heal me

so we can fight again

quarter circle forward

and I’ll be your Ken

so keep it going to the end

save ourselves from the final sin

because everyone dies

when someone wins

Continue?

life is a video game
we are characters
there are levels
things to beat
to move up

we’re all 3D
when really real is all
4 - 11 D (+)

there are hacks
to level up, my loves
(as far as I can tell in
moments that trump
my everyday numb):

see your patterns
own your ****, traumas
choose love
over all

and make better
different choices

in the face
of torment taunting

then the
record skips
and you find yourself

in a new
orbit

ya, ya, i know
there is a King Koopa mf
at the end, but like
by that time

we will be
stronger

and not
alone

Bonjourno, paisanos!
Didn’t think I could say actual words,
right?
Most of us virtual protagonists
like Pac Man and Crash Bandicoot
don’t talk much since we are
systematically required to listen
to enemy plans and damsel-in-distress gratitudes,
to actively work to stay alive,
making it hard to breathe
and cough up a sentence or two.

Now that I momentarily have the freedom
of [legitimate] speech,
I’ll let you in on my thoughts
about comrades, enemies, and my abilities…

Most days I can’t stand
how a princess like Toadstool
keeps falling into the wrong hands.
Even us characters have a life
when gaming systems power off.
Most days I’m not the only hero
but the co-hero.
Though most times my friend Toad and brother Luigi
are scared of warding off intrusions,
they’re my only reinforcements.

My archnemesis Bowser and his army of koopa-turtles and armless goombas
aren’t too bright.
When Bowser acquires power-ups beyond
my virtual abilities as an inner-city plumber,
I scurry to find others who know
Bowser’s vulnerable spots
and who help me gain acrobatic abilities.

The food I eat
Provides strength and focus--
like mushrooms that make me grow taller, smaller, and lengthen
my lifespan.

I’m sure some of you wish
you could hop across wide crevices
or defeat troublesome figures.

Thanks to gamers and patrons
who adventure through space and evolving scenery
with me.
I hope in the midst of Rockwell-style art in motion,
you all take away real-life lessons.
Wahoo!

Star struck, star luck, star power,
Stomp Goomba, stomp Koopa, stomp Bowser,
Eat shrooms and make 'em ******* cower,
And Luigi said it's over, you'll see us in an hour.