We are not Alone!

 


They dance and they skip and they pulse behind mesas. They drop behind roofs of a neighboring home. They cross the night skies like a star that detaches, their blinking is soundless, and we're not alone.
 
 
We're not alone as we gather possessions; we're not alone as we squander our trust. We're not alone as we punish the innocence; thinking that we have to, convinced somehow we must. We're not alone while the rain forests burn. We're not alone as we wither and die. We're not alone; we've seen them a' flying in all the world's countries in their tortured, troubled skies. We're not alone as we torment ourselves. We're not alone; we are fragile -- forlorn. We're not alone, and affixed with our blinders I'd rip from our faces with pleasure and scorn!
 
 
They dart between buildings in Mexican places! They hover for shuttles, we've seen them in space, Diz! They've neutered our nukes at the drop of their hat . . . somebody _knows_, it's as simple as that!
 
 
Somebody knows what it is _we'd_ be knowing. Somebody knows why the ET's are here. Somebody knows surely more than we're getting when circumstance is passing strange -- with things so god damned queer! Somebody knows what the ancients were knowing and shared in their tablets of clay! Somebody knows where the secrets are buried that would make a man autonomous, and a woman not his slave!  Somebody knows why we suffer and die when the best of all times could be had! Somebody knows why we hate to look up; why we're shamed, why we're cowards, why at best we're so damned sad. . .
 
 
They land and they leave all the strangest of traces. They clutter and clog at the sweep of the sky! We find them in ads, that insult our intelligence, for all of the stuff that we lust for and buy. We find them on our candy; we find they shill for cars -- machines that do our washing, from the toy box to the stars. They float in all our magazines; they sell us junky food. They're all around; they're surely here; they exist, and they intrude!
 
 
They intrude into our consciousness. They won't leave us alone. They intrude their own agenda, and they listen on your phone! They intrude where we won't have them in a sullen white bread world. They intrude into our emptiness and they prove they will not yield. They intrude in sullen closets where we think we keep a secret, and they make a strange notation in their book. Knowing bodies we've been hiding, they can dig up moldy bones, and they know just where you'd, likely, never look.
 
 
As days go by they're closer still; they will not be denied. They'll solve our crass indifference; they'll expose what's been contrived. And you better have your center. You better open up your mind. You better open up the box in which you keep your soul confined. The future is a freight train, and we're sitting on the track, the bonds we feel we've tied ourselves -- c'mon, it's _all_ a fact!
 
 
alienview@adelphia.net
 
 
Ain't it? If not here, certainly _somewhere_ in the grand expanse of that which we cannot even *know* _how_ to know. And that's as good as _being_ there <g>.  Ain't it?
 
 
I think we avoid looking for this stuff because we know if we look . . . we will find. That's a good implication from Heisenburg, don't you think? If we observe something for an occurrence, we will have an occurrence. Things are spring loaded to happen. Looking into the night sky, trying to step past the fear of what _could_ be out there, and attempting a search for a bonified UFO yields some interesting results. Frankly -- you _see_ UFO's!
 
 
Let's start there. Let's look.
We're not, really, looking.
 
 
Restore John Ford!

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