Look, I'm an Alien

     KITCHEN WINDOW
Wood laid out in slats
And smooth floors where people are sweeping
crying
melting
The browning of meat
and tiny elbows
They eat.
      BATHROOM
Fish run through the air
And wet-magic flows through metal spouts
To white, clanging bowls that catch your spit
I can smell you now.
      GARAGE
Grey, as though long ago it was the color of my face
Masses with long lines of squiggles running them,
Trying to form things called words,
Line it.
Small, thin ledges where dust collects and nothing else.
Blue.
"Pooh was here".
     CHILD'S ROOM
A fuzzy noise emits from its caged face
Black knobs rest on top and a
large, metal rod protrudes and
Points to my hometown.
"Save the baby," it crackles.
I run.
    PARK
They gurgle unexpectedly.
And lash out
running fast
their tiny flanges get
caught in
webs.
They scream.
      BAKERY WINDOW
I'm breathing in the smell of burnt flour.
This is inedible.
I must save those who plan to eat it by eating it first.
Goodbye friends.
Goodbye.