Alchemisland

Last week came a rapping on our door

I was playing games, deathmatches in random stages

Moving rapidly, flew couch to landing to standing before him

I answered, postman in his cap standing

Glancing up, one hand rummaging in his bulging satchel

Directly handed me the package, to the manor’s master

I was so excited, and so unwilling to unhand it, my parents permitted me to unwrap it early

Bandit, rapscallion, spoiled child whose knuckles require rapping with the leather strap

A pile of games for me to play during my vacation

Jak and Daxter, Kingdom Hearts, Shadow of the Colossus, Mario Kart

Back then, ninety percent of a buy was based on box art

Some high elf tart in skimpy, useless armour

Put that on the box and you were getting my pocket money

I sought not only to get good stuff but games I could play with my buddies

On the road, three of us the same age would be out playing

Our parents didn’t care what we watched, zero supervision

We watched eighteen cert horrors about serial murders

About soul-borrowing demons scheming behind seals

About evil aliens with phallic head shapes and blood that would shave a rock face

About zombies in New Zealand, about bomb disposal technicians

About Barbarians, about fairies, about scary things, about kissing.