The Tyger Uppercut

Tyger! Tyger uppercut!
Tyger knee him in the gut.
What jump forward jab or fierce
Could brave this fearful Street Fighter?

In what level’s pixeled sky
Doth one escape his patch’ed eye?
What the leap evade his ire?
What the turtle block his fire?

And what flash kick, sonic boom –
What wall jump from across the room?
What better move in all the game?
What yoga fire? Yoga flame?

What the Ryu? What the Ken?
What hadouken, shoryuken?
What the Blanka? What beast’s trick?
Down forward punch? Charge forward kick?

When Zangief bared his scratch’ed chest,
Or Cammy spandex’d up her breasts,
Did Sagat’s scar they think to see?
Did you just counter-pick Chun Li?

Tyger! Tyger uppercut!
Tyger knee him in the gut.
What jump forward jab or fierce
Dare brave this fearful Street Fighter?

- Fenzel

Carrion Console, by Gerard Manl-E. Honda

NOT, I’ll not, carrion console, Street Fighter, not continue thee;
Not insert — few they may be — these last quarters left
To me or, most weary, cry “Here comes a new challenger!”
I can; can something, hope, wish day come, go play Tekken 3.
But ah, but O thou Capcomical, why wouldst thou hard at me
Thy hundred-hand slap heave? lay a tigerpunch against me? sear
With Dhalsim’s devouring fire my bruised bones? and combo,
O in turns of tempest, me dizzièd there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?

Why? That my button-mashing chaff might fly, my play-skill grain lie sheer and clear.
Nay in all those rounds, those wounds, since (seems) into the ring I stepped,
Pressed 1P start rather, my moves lo! back-fore, fierce punch, crowd cheers.
Cheers whom though? the hero whose Shoryoukenning flung me, foot swept
Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That match, that year
of now spent quarters I wretch lay wrestling with (M. Bison!) M. Bison.

- Stokes

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