Get Your Premium Membership

Regular Aliens

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?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things