Dead Planet XLIII

Dead Planet XLIII

“SciFaiku is haiku
and it is not haiku.
It deviates, expands,
and frees itself of haiku.”
—Tom Brinck,
The SciFaiku Manifesto

see how low he flies—
devil boy up in the sky
the darkness darkens

the devil boy lands—
out there in the moody moors
his beat-up saucer

rain washes away—
the smell of airship ozone
a radar blip fades

i’ll shut my eyes and—
pretend the robot is gone
but the thing’s still there

the flight staircase—
opens up in the cool night
crop circles ripple

devil boy from mars—
the light from his laser eyes
melts my skinny ass

his alien lips—
purse like sour persimmons
his black leather boots

he wears a skull cap—
black shiny plastic so sleek
his sharp vampire teeth

spilling down over
his scarlet cape in the breeze
again and again

again and again—
i ask the others to wake
their eyelids are dead

cocky young earthmen—
abducting them back to mars
that’s his big mission

sponge-gourd blossoms—
boy from mars deflowers them
he chokes on their phlegm

see how he hovers—
then he takes off back to mars
his captives inside

at the hot-spring moon—
earthboy clones get hatched nicely
their buzzing tight pubes

quite to their surprise—
some of their offspring are born
martian young men

i want to go home—
i’ve done everything he’s said
repeat it he says

in the distance hills—
a patch of martian light
the withered canals

cold polar caps—
still lingering even now

in the spring wind—
i admire his dying race
trying to survive

terraforming mars—
their last hope earthboyz in heat
they want all of me

scifaiku diary—
discovering something new
in old mars ruins

i suck the sour taste—
the tangerine sands of mars
once so bloody red

all day long now—
the martian pyramids
casting long shadows

i am not alone—
instant recall brings others
back into the now

against my helmet—
shower of meteorites
ort cloud monsoon rain

a spaceship soars—
over the red sands of mars
the last day has dawned

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