4:41 p.m. - 2008-10-30
poem for dhalsim, you're a fire-breathing yoga practising streetfighter.
Dhalsim
how did u get this way?
you're a fire-breathing yoga-practising street fighter,
with elephants and elaborate carpet patterns in your white palace,
your arms and legs they can extend so far and touch the other end
this room is not big enough for the two of us
wherever i run i cannot hide
because you like to shriek yoga-fire! and teleport right behind me
Dhalsim
your AI is not too dull but you're a sim.
so after a few tries i know how to make you over-reach yourself too many times and i can jump over to you and give you my quad-hit combo that i practised many times twisting joysticks in dark empty arcades after school
so now you've lost
and wow i finally beat you
you're mangled and bruised, your yoga powers spent, you hardly utter a sound, your head hung low.
but i realise even when i've beaten you
you still win me.
because i can never make my knee touch my head like you. nor teleport. nor live in a wooden cabinet of electronic circuits and transistors forever.
teach me yoga so i can beat blanka please.
kthanxbye.
