it was on the Atari 2600
blue and green and red 
block colors across the round 
screen of a 13 inch Zenith 
jammed into the corner 
of your room 

this was the only game
we ever sat down 
played together 
taking turns
handing the black joystick 
with the bright single red button
back and forth

when it was your turn 
you would sit 
cross legged 
with your Joe Camel leather jacket
his cigarettes that killed you
in the side pocket 

during the week 
the sun would get that 
sting the back of your eyes
teeth grinding no cloud 
weighted presence 
the day would go raw
in the gums 
where you wanted to chew
your own fingers 
I’d play the game

without you 
but a ghost 
couldn’t and still can’t 
fix what’s been taken
by whatever hold 
Ohio and
a set
of
painted nails 
had on you