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Are they horned and screaming?
No, nothing that munches other meat eaters
could rupture light years.
Are they ethereal deities
that live on their own ever flowing nectar,
so far advanced
that we haven’t a chance?

In Ohio we are infused;
the sky is filtered with swarms
of distant spacecraft.
Gnats and cicada part their waves
to accommodate yet more
saucy lights in the sky.

Are they not green?
No, we have seen no greenery in them.
They appear to be appearances;
one appearance is called a ‘sighting’
which may indicate that we are seeing things.
Seeing theories in the air,
seeing the hovering and the streaking,
the madcap maneuverings
everywhere.

Sometimes they are of the third kind;
abductions and probing's.
unreasonably unreliable as bedfellows.
Belief is rampant, disbelief dwindles daily.

Soon they may deliver us from ourselves.
The cliff edge of reality is crumbling.

Soon they will declare that being among us
was always us being among them.

Shall we come through,
shall we be genetically de-horned?
Will there be screaming
or succor, all flabber ghasted?

Will we suffer
the unexpected giggling
of a new self-searching,
the crack of bird brains hatching.
as we ascend into the nether regions
of the here and now?

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