A poem that takes the word alien and proceeds to shuffle it briefly down one particular blind alley.
Image via Wikipedia
An alien is something,
Not like us it’s different
It doesn’t give a tinker’s cus
About things that we deem
important to ourselves
For it does seem that we
put up shelves at random
And lodge things on them
To an alien this strikes them
at once as odd
Bric-a-brac is to them
a going thing, not a stack
of fair for which a plank
exists simply to keep them
hanging in mid air.
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