Abducted

Blue white light does not reflect
from their deep black eyes,
those black holes in grey space
from which nothing escapes.

I was taken from my truck
as I drove, alone after a day’s work.
The engine stalled; the radio died
and strange pale fire burned the sky.

It’s hazy, but I remember being watched
by three fetus-faced creatures;
a forth stuck long needles
into my skull, lungs, and groin.

They came halfway across the galaxy
for kinky medical experimentation,
fifty-three thousand light years to
fulfill their interspecies perversions.

I didn’t ask for this, not for any of it,
not the black outs or missing hours
not the midnight nosebleeds or the stifling paranoia.
I just want my life back.

You can keep the new age platitudes
and the science-fiction mysticism,
these visitors from the stars tell only lies;
the truth is not out there.