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  • Writer's pictureMarías at Sampaguitas

Poetry by Maria S. Picone

More than a Game

In my dreams, I am

male, blond and tall, striding with a lightsaber 

across digital sands.

A guild interviewee told me women make good

waitresses. My dear friends still laugh about it. 

Some hold their lives close

but others, we’ve gotten drunk and lost in a new city

together. Picked them up from Boston Logan, 

crammed three in the backseat of a white 

Mazda. Became who I would fight for, die for, 

in this real life. Without 

cool space tech or laser light beams.

From our little group, the truths I carry: someone’s 

graduation, a texted picture of a newborn. 

$10 to buy a cat toy

she can call hers from Winnipeg, a (whispered) heart 

condition, a broken marriage. Meeting at a Rays game.

When we’re old, unbound by commitments,

I imagine us 

wandering around a beach together, 

complaining about the loot, bemoaning 

so-and-so’s dps. I expect only this: 

a warm, starry night, 

a communal meal, tender sport.

Maria S. Picone (she/her) has an MFA from Goddard College. She loves cats, noodles, and oil painting. Her poetry and translations appear in Mineral Lit Mag, Red Alder Review, the Able Muse, and Vox Viola. Her Twitter is @mspicone, and her website is

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