BEEEEEEP
*Emergency Broadcast*
Get off the mainland. Unidentified aircrafts have overtaken the island and are launching, what appears to be, green goo all over buildings, causing them to melt on contact. There are too many aircrafts to count. All boats have departed. Those of you left, hurry to the last departing boat. I repeat – get off the mainland.
*Broadcast Ends*
——————–
I wake up. I get ready to leave.
I slap on some causal clothes.
Dress shoes: I don’t need those.
I look up and notice the time.
I have 30 minutes to get to
the last boat. The mainland is
sinking, and I can’t float. Hope
is shrinking. Without thinking,
I rush to the dock with a bad
back and a knapsack. I approach
the dock with holes in my socks.
I see a light fading in the mist.
I get the gist. I missed the boat.
I drop to my knees. I curse
the skies and the stars above.
Seconds later, a flying saucer
takes shape of a loving dove
that spits green slime in my eye.
I wipe my face. I see a light.
No way this can be right.
The dove transforms back
into a flying saucer. A black-
eyed, small, frail, lifeform
comes flying out its door and
has its hands around my neck.
I jam my thumb in its green
head until, well, you know,
it was dead. Not after long,
I climb in the vacant saucer.
Just like that, I was a goner.
I may have missed the boat,
but I killed an alien and flew
to places only NASA knew
about. It was a better route.
Now, I stay put in Area 51,
where I hide from the sun.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 