In an Alien Craft

I am orbiting this planet
at my own speed. It is very pleasant.
Soon, though, I will have to beam down.

I will put on my suit,
puffy like a diver’s,
only lighter than air.

It will have the necessary tubes and tanks
a window, weights to hold me down,
whatever I need to survive.

But I don’t really want to come down
and it isn’t the suit.
It’s something they’ve done

to my brain up here, strange thoughts
they’ve put in my head. Now I can’t remember
why I used to live there anymore

or why they said those awful things
about me when I left
but I don’t think I want to go back.

Hear it:



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