ghosts in the corner of the room

shadows, flickering over the airwaves

their dumb faces pressed against the screen

with overlarge heads and eyes as empty as moons


other worldly creatures

aliens beaming down

and squatting on my life


their skin stretched skulls

give out a dead man’s stare

they do not see but still….penetrate


averting my eyes to avoid their pleading, I countered

numbers were predictable and made me feel at ease

the mantra in my head drowned out the silent wails


though memories turned up regular to the power of three

and the square root of any equation made me question

sub divisions divided my attention and made me content


so how to be an anthropologist?

to be alien in an alien world

to adapt to the mental dislocation


of physical laws functioning

to a base line I cannot fathom

in a realm I cannot escape


detached from the world

a satellite unable to communicate

I observe from my orbit


one day I will make contact and feel real emotion

once again I will be crushed by human gravity