Up here, just above the horizon, 

the sun rears its angry head,

barely peering over clouds. 

It’s nigh unrecognizable in this state,

a delicate sliver,

unimposing, so very weak,

its arrival announcing the beginning of fresh dawn. 

Light trickles down on grassy plains and dense towns,

beams of gold interrupting blackness of night,

no discrimination in dissemination of warmth, 

no acknowledgment of tedium occurring beneath its blazing form.

Oh, sun,

do you long for recognition? 

Do you lament how, despite all your labour, 

no one can hold your cocksure gaze?

Oh, sun,

presiding in the sky,

loquacious without ever speaking.

Providing life, but never love,

forever ignorant of its significance.

Sweet thing,

you vex me with your intangibility.

My mind’s eye visualizes you with desperate precision,

dreams allowing me yearned respite from pinching reality.

I dread the inevitable opening of my eyes, 

knowing I will once again be completely alone. 

There’s someone in my closet.

 

Pulling up covers, ducking beneath sheets,

the sweet illusion of refuge does little to muffle the noise.

 

Hear nails scraping against the wood of the floor. 

Hear their breathing, a chest’s rise and fall. 

 

Dare to squint, 

see their fingers, 

reaching under the door, 

ripping up carpet,

scrambling — desperate, begging.

 

The weeping is awful, 

grotesque sobs sure to nauseate, 

though my eyes are dry,

my lips are sealed. 

 

There’s someone in my closet, 

which locks only from the outside.

I wonder how the last firefly of the season feels
when it realizes it is all alone,
when it wakes up one night to a world,
that is far less bright than usual.

Do you think it remembers the yesterdays,
when the darkness was a canvas for their love,
and the sunset was their dawn,
instead of a bitter reminder,
of its isolation?

As each glow
grows ever fainter
do you think it understands
that the coming of our autumn
is its winter?

Celestial bodies high above,

You are the things I’m dreaming of,

 

With icy canyons — acid lakes,

— do aliens eat birthday cakes?

 

Of saucers full, but not with milk,

Of rippling seas that look like silk,

 

But here I sit on banal rock,

With all my homosapien flock,

 

And I feel stuck, and I feel ill, 

For Earth itself brings me no thrill.

 

This place is such an awful bore,

I look at stars and yearn for more.

 

Come take me to a better world,

To spread my wings, leave them unfurled,

 

— But what’s that, floating up ahead,

That leaves me feeling full of dread?

 

It’s round and green, and glowing, too,

A beam touched down, and up I flew.

 

My legs float high, defied the law,

Swallowed in its gaping maw,

 

This isn’t what I thought it’d be,

And as I float, I pray and plea,

They’re staring at me in the eye,

And I think I’m too young to die,

 

One steps close - I start to shake,

Its tendril slithers like a snake,

 

I’m sure of it, my time is done, 

But not before they have their fun,

 

They’d probe and prod and poke around,

My body would be never found,

 

I shut my eyes and wince in fear,

Wish I was anywhere but here,

 

To my surprise, no pain would come,

Instead I smelled the scent of rum,

 

Of flower, sugar, pinch of salt,

The smells put my fears to a halt,

 

I gain courage to look around,

And there I see, one alien gowned.

 

And on it was a bright, wide sash,

Hey — is this a birthday bash?

 

Appendage lands into my lap,

Holding a pastry, soaked in sap.

 

It’s a field trip, I last suppose,

To ogle at our human woes,

 

To feed their curiosity,

But when they came, they just found me.

 

In retrospect, Earth’s not that bad,

But honestly, I’m pretty glad

The aliens I met were cool,

Regardless of their poison drool,

 

And seven eyes, that never blink -

They sure as hell can hold their drink.

 

I’d danced so hard I sprained my thigh,

They took me home and said goodbye,

 

If there’s anything from this I take,

It’s that aliens do, eat birthday cake.

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