My Old X-Box

A system of mechanical organs

shut up inside a marble casing.

            Poke the eye on its face to

awaken the green behemoth.

Snaking across the floor, a cord, growing off

of a controller, half-red, half-white.

The curves mold onto my hand,

and the machine melts into my soul.

For one brief moment, I throw a veil onto

            myself,

            one day, a street-savvy skateboarder

            busting kickflips over the tops of New Orleans,

            the next, maybe an emerald-clad Space Marine