In 1947, I crashed here, on your beautiful troubled world...well, me and David Bowie(we called him, 'lucky two eyes'), and several others. Of course, the ruling 'junta' here, took advantage of our metal, and our mage power, and they told a 'big fat lie', to everyone. It just figures, 'the lie', was full of gas. So, in the heat of the moment...it was a 'UFO', but after due consideration, and misappropriation of truth, justice, and the American way...it became, 'a weather balloon'. Then, just tell me, "I'm full of 'balloonie'. But NO! That final significator, of 'ain't gonna fly', ain't what it was. It was a 'niche', a 'notch', a 'crevice'...into which, they jammed their big bogus banan-a-rama, and nine stifleing months later, we popped out our pods...without a stitch on, and no green card. You could say, instead of 'born again'...we were 'twice hidden'. You had 'aliens' among you. Dad had two of everything...two marriage licences...two birth certificates, two big hairy balls, and at least...two excuses, for why he had what he had, and...he had me, there, that day, at my US Navel induction. Now, we're mind readers...you know? We don't need to hear you, to know what you're gonna say. We know, when your mouth starts moving, it's gonna tell a 'big fat lie'. Thus, we gathered quite a lot of intelligence, and we passed it along...in the form of 'potty poetry', dirty limericks, and just 'shit for all', and now...the whole galaxy knows, how funny you think you are...and, how 'sneaky'. So, you go straight ahead to hell, me? Well...there's lots more, but why bore you with the truth?
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, Deming, New Mexico
Photo Cred: Dale Miles, strangesounds.org
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