So I don’t get completely overwhelmed by the National Poetry Month’s Oulipost event, I’m trying to stay on top of generating some poetry that isn’t Found Language, because:
A) I still have to send poems to grad school, and after putting my mentor through an entire three months of Sonnets, I think he’d kill me if I threw nothing but Found Language at him,
B) I saw this really cool call for submissions dealing with Video Game writing and that’s my bag, man, and
3) That should have been C. Anyway, this here is a tale as old as ti—well, as old as MMOs, anyway.
Love at First Elite Boss
I first saw him jumping on a mailbox in his underwear,
chanting his mantra:
“DPS LFG! ND HLZ OR TNK PLZ!”
How could I not send a whisper?
“Good lord, forsooth,
my oaken staff does stand erect, and yea,
is Best-in-slot! I’m Holy-specced.”
“KK,” he said, and sent a group invite.
He donned his gear, and summoned forth his mount—
a mighty mammoth, and off we rode
into the Barrens wild. He let me lead the way.
“Milord, your daggers shine like jewels aflame!”
I said to pass the time (and make a move).
His silence gave me chills: surely, this dashing rogue
was scanning the hills for danger,
or contemplating the perils ahead,
or AFK and autofollowing me.
We reached our waypoint, and beheld the foe:
a goblin chief surrounded by trash mobs.
As usual before a fight, I laid out a hero’s feast
of wines and breads, and cheeses mild and strong
to steel our nerves (and buff our stats). “A fine repast!”
“YA. TY. RDY NOW,” he said, crouching into stealth
and slipping, quicksilver, into the midst of danger.
So brave! I waited for the telltale grunt,
his backstab landing true,
and shielded him with all my love and faith.
“HLZ NOW PLZ!” his voice rang out above the fray,
his health bar dipping well below the red,
My heart was on fire, but my heals
were on cooldown.
“WTF?!?!? REZ! REZ!1!!”