The saucers are approaching now.
Yellow and red lights hover overhead
as they prepare their scanners
to gauge my responses, inserting
suggestions and scenarios
into my ears.
These mouthless terrestrials
measure my cortex, and
illuminate the cerebral lobe,
awaiting my response to the stimuli.
Long rubbery fingers prod
me inquisitively, as if I’m
some rare yielding fauna, hardly
Then their strange fluted messages
Begin, and light from their
undulating heads glows strobe-like
Decode me alien race, I
am yours. Take me home. Put me
on display for your species
as an example of the marvels
of this wondrous universe.
Dan Kelty is a Spanish teacher in St. Louis, MO where he lives with his two children. He is published in Nimrod, Margie, Steam Ticket, and others.