Sympathy For the Visitors
though i’ve no sympathy for the “devil”
(as there exists no such thing),
i got to feel that one must have
sympathy for the visitors---
if any self-respecting alien
felt the need to stop their space cruiser
on the way to some interesting place,
here,
on this intergalactic equivalent of a
foul smelling
highway
rest stop---
whose graffiti laden vending machine
sitting out front,
doesn’t even hold cans of the
outdated soda pictures &
whose bathroom filled with ex-pop stars
jerking off to pictures of little boys,
meth heads insufflating their life away,
prostitutes sucking off old men or
just unclean ****-stained walls,
might not hold the luster
that other wonderfully bright stars out there
may shine throughout the
universe,
i would stand out in the middle of the
parking lot,
surrounded by airstrip lighting
with flares bubbling fire in my hands
waving up at the sky like a madman
hoping they’d see me & know
to fly on by &
save themselves the disgust.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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