we inhabit a bland planet prattle and shop in precincts
no photons torpedo nobody wormholes nobody
telekinetic not one of us can fly but we sweat
no interest accruing on our MasterCards either
no caps on our data plans no gaps in our Medicaid
through the fevers of spring through our seventeen
months of summer our seven throngs of fall
when the leaves change several times an hour
until it snows those days we need it to snow
so the sun can thaw the barrio dry lay itself easy
as a leg draped across your legs on a porch swing
everybody has a porch swing the beat cops wave to
when they pass they don’t protect us brutal
they don’t police the teeth out of our heads
or hunt us as if they are monsters afraid
of the dark we are not fearful of any invaders
emigrating into our Oort cloud no jingo caucus
gums up our galactic congress no bigot polemic
commandeers our election cycle our super PACs
protect us our lobbyists defend us even
our Republicans consider our expertise
not one is an American there’s no such thing
as Americans there are only bisexuals
all forty-six of our black presidents all
thirty-seven of them women all us bisexuals
infatuated with each other and all our caliphs want
is a key party all our Zions require mutual consent
there is no God there is no God so we get on
with our farming and cookery so when the aliens come
they come for our cuisine they stay for our bar scene
tip us heavy and split their spliffs with us at sunup
on the beach before breakfast before taking us
for a matinee where they marvel at our CGI
the Real3D of our worry that depicts them daft
as we are hungry grunts always fixing for a fight