Alien Blizzard

Fox Kerry
Poets Unlimited
Published in
2 min readOct 3, 2017

(Don’t look them in the Eye)

Jessica shall not die that day, I swore from the grills of my snow machine.

She may end up confused, in disarray, but not forever locked in that strange beam.

When aliens come, you may fare better than some, but no one won’t be changed beneath that twinkling.

For what can you offer, when you find your nature softer, than the metalwork of time that starts unwrinkling

It was cold that hour they landed there, their lights ahid in blizzard, a shush that whistled out to so contain her

And when you find her stranded there, staring frozen like a lizard, before I get there touch her not, please just remain her.

For she did look one in the face, before the lights went whiteout.

And if I do not win this race, her memories you’ll blow right out.

I’ve seen that look only twice before, if you wake it before its time.

You’ll merely save a mumbling whore, But if you wait, I’ll make her fine.

What magic do I have you ask, how shall I pull the trick, why should’st you leave the lady till I get there?

I’ve no galactic salve in flask , no hypersonic kick, but I do possess two lungs full of their air.

Others would have stopped their breath, when first those doors had parted

But I was starved to face that death, when once my gal they’d retarded

And once you’ve inhaled the particle and pollen, which streams forth from their vessel

You find a calm and sort of solemn, and your fibers of fight re-nestle

And I even think this is what they want, a fight, not a simple take-over

And I will give them that thing they hunt, as this planet they seek to make-over.

So Jessica, friend, I’m coming for you, my snow-mobile’s kicked in high gear

Alien Bastards!, Prepare for fight II, All you’ve done is wake a Tiger!

But what of my love, how shall she live, if even the bastards I South

That’s why I’ve kept that strange air they give, to give Jessica one last mouth to mouth.

-Want to read something else for Halloween?

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Fox Kerry
Poets Unlimited

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.