Game Enjambment is a reoccurring poetry series on games and gaming.
You circuspunk, blacklight fluorescent beings,
playing-card-hurling, opera-singing cacklers,
overgrown aquatic bestiary rejects,
spiny, snaggletoothed, horned living gargoyles:
How you’ve taken residence of late
(like beyond the witching hour,
issuing challenges in your garbled, misheard speech)
deep into little hovels in my heart.
Welcome, new denizens:
Like pressing through a fruit’s bruise,
you’ve found my soft spot for you.
Katherine Quevedo was born and raised just outside of Portland, Oregon, where she lives with her husband and two sons. Her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Rhysling Award and has appeared in NonBinary Review, Songs of Eretz, Honeyguide Literary Magazine, and elsewhere. Her speculative fiction has appeared in various anthologies and magazines. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys playing old-school video games, watching movies, singing, belly dancing, and making spreadsheets. Find her at www.katherinequevedo.com.