Poem: When Aliens Land, Or, The Return Of The King

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When aliens land
Do they come as Farmers,
To harvest seeds they planted long ago?

Is it "hi, Mom," or "hello cousin,"
Or will we be enslaved as drones?

Will they stop in for phosphorous or zinc or bauxite?
Or will they just toss earth in the back
Of an enormous galactic flatbed truckfarm pick-up
And head back to Zeta Reticulon?

Will they make this spinning ball
A rendering plant, or will they
Come to absorb our wisdom, art and humanity?

We never picture
aliens, greys, or martians
Coming in peace
Because we never came in peace.
---o0o---