My right hand on the arm rest starts to cramp
I daren't release the tether lest I leap
My left hand shields my eyes, a trembling clamp
A millimetre gap affords a peep.
And so I watch as Ripley finds the nest
(this scene's the best, you're free to disagree)
…to rescue Newt, her suicidal quest
….in whom the viewers have their hearts invested
…..Ripley flambés alien eggs with zest
……then plucks the girl before she is digested
…….checks the Queen in battle breast to breast
……..and leaves us on a cinematic crest!
But six years on, we're told Newt WAS infested;
Why did we bother seeing ‘Alien 3'?
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Comments about this poem ('Aliens'....Mostly... by Diane Hine )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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