Bryan Thao Worra

(01/01/1973 / Vientiane, Laos)

Aliens


We turn our dishes to
Heaven, but

What manner of dog will come running
To lick them,

Drawn to the censored moaning groins
And the pyrotechnics of false death
And chemical love?

Fetch me a big stick to shake
At these stellar voyeurs!

I want nothing to do with them

As I run down my strange streets,
An accidental alien without
A ray gun.

Submitted: Monday, July 29, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 29, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Aliens by Bryan Thao Worra )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]