Come one, come all—come on up and blast the deconstructed remains of my poetry from the sky to convert it into poetry of your own! Don’t like my poetry? Well it’s your poetry now, buster! Don’t like poetry in general? THEN BLAST IT OUT OF THE GOSHDARNED SKY, BUCKAROO. It’s free, it’s easy, it’s endlessly replayable (hopefully, eventually)—I should be paying you not to play it so I don’t have the rest of your life on my conscience. But instead I put your life in your own hands—hands you can use for BLASTING.

Find it here (if you dare): https://trainspotter.itch.io/poetry-blaster

Fine print: this game is still very early in development, please be patient while it develops to its full blastiferous potential. If you’re mean I might cry and then the poetry will be about you, buddy.