Shoot 'Em Up
I eat all my meals (and split-seconds)
As swiftly as ready-made mustard;
And here's how my brainpower's reckoned:
My actions are done before dusted.
Show me a school. In one bound, it is free.
There aren't any flies which are faster than me.
I don't sit and stare at the seaboard –
How dull for a child to watch waves.
No, I learn all I need from a keyboard
As I watch how the screen misbehaves.
How else should I learn, than by grazing the void,
How quickly to double the under-employed?
Bring me your old and your sickly,
Your poor and the bores on the breadline.
Not only will I fix them quickly –
I'll do it before there's a deadline.
This skill comes from shoot-ups, hot in the fray,
And from living with aliens day after day.
There's blood on the virtual matting:
It's the speed of my wrist as I swivel.
It might sound as if I were chatting
But I'm speeding through rivers of drivel.
Bring me a joystick, I'll beat you, berserk:
I'm the Conservative Party at work.
Read the Independent article about shoot-em-ups here