NPM 11 (Prayer?)

If there is a technospheric layer stuffed under the Earth’s crust

G-d let there be a techno-drone rippling out from Earth

Delight in an alien on their solar sail yacht

hearing your mum say she loves you bug.

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House of Them

 

Sunday morning certain mutants realize

everyone is changed. Is it right to reveal this?

 

To be fair, little is new. On the nose

of most folk an egg tooth has grown

 

with which to peck their shell. But those

who sprout no horn? They suppose

 

themselves dependents so pray,

tent their hands in a cowcatcher shape.