The Martians arrived in their blue suits,
large heads with bulging black eyes,
jumping out of their flying saucer
into my fenced and landscaped yard,
Lucy the St. Bernard was not on guard.
Shaking themselves they did a dance,
before my eyes as Lucy was snoring,
All eight of them turned on music from chests,
a strange form of haunting and funky sounds,
moving...
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