Aliens Discover Intelligent Life

I’ve breached the Earth’s atmosphere
how I wish I wore clean underwear.
Sorry, mom.
Spacemen circle around me,
“what a strange oddity we have here” they’d say.
He has every opportunity in the world,
they would think to themselves as they continued on with my alien lobotomy.
I hope I signed a waiver.

Finally I can give back.
Finally someone who understands.
Martians aren’t that bad. I’ll swap dispositions
You’d be pissed too if your were a little green man.

I’m glad that somebody got it right.
Maybe I should pay them instead of my shrink.
I’d feel bad if he couldn’t gas up his yacht
and sail off to some island like you see on reality shows
where men & women pretend to give a shit while mugging for the camera.
There is no award for vanity.
15 minutes reduced to 15 seconds between commercial breaks
and some exotic venereal disease.
‘Every opportunity to destroy yourself’
Just give it to me straight, Doc.
I can’t handle it- but I’ll lie to save us all some grief.

Aliens should open up their heads to see what makes them tick.
Vanity trumps insanity every time.

Night of the Dead Living

Your flesh was delicious.
I have no more time to reminisce.
You’re gone now,
and I’ve been running for days because they never stop chasing me- no need for open caskets.
No need for graves or wakes– Just Run…

Fail me once again, I can take it.
My legs will travel a few more miles. And I will survive
Force of will, or maybe just the will to live.
Feet ache and my mind already left;
the drop off point, helicopter never came, and the memory of you won’t go away.

Hysteria
Somewhere a boy in a field wonders where his parents went.
And why his best friend hunts him down- blood jettison in a mouth that shared Cheetos and juice boxes
I’m so paranoid that I’ll get bit and have to live each day like this

Wandering the town for people I once knew.
Now they just look like food.

Maybe when the dead came alive you thought you’d fit in
You saw more fall to the earth- but they can’t unhinge
the lost, the broken, falling skies – the news already broke.
Along with all hope.

Reality falters, when the stumbling creeps drift from street to street
and backyards where barbecues once smelled of charred meat.
Now streets caked with rotted flesh- everyone’s eyes hollowed out and no time for vanity

The butcher shop is all around you

Instill me with safety
The world doesn’t look the same to me
The stretch of time that paralyzes each one of us to be walking and not running in fear
Fuck the world around you where you felt safe

The dead need living things