If only our chickens see the UFO
Out back, ‘OMG’ and ‘BFD’ stay much

The same in correspondence. When we step
Outside anywhere, the world still smells

Of earthworms and fish, and there’s that
Hopeless metallic taste at the back of the mouth

As of a garage, the same guilt feeling something
Needs repair. But, unbeknownst to most of us,

Everything’s different now: Someone
New wants to see whether our brain has

An inner skeleton or we can reproduce alone.
No more nice Septembers from now on,

But we keep enjoying them for a while
Anyway. Just hot or just cold are not gone.

And it’s still hard to believe life occurs
In its lone pain-grogged sleep state

Or adrenalin-splashed panic for some
Reason still unknowable in our heads.