Alien Autopsy (#21 Na/GloPoWriMo)

Blood is thicker than water, oh how negative.
Negative monkey tree.
The aliens live among us, spreading, growing.
The slouching Neanderthals kiss the others, glue the spear, strike,
and the humanid who grubs the tuber gathers around
flames
the stars alight roaring in flame over the tiny drama
below.

Blood is thicker than water.  Oh negative.
Negative rejecting choice.
In the womb, restless, blood at war
no voice, the helpless innocent
because the surface doubt;
driving and colliding, a sunrise of doubt
the departure, death highway, extinction.
Tribes are not unanimous.  Rise!  Rise!  Rise!
We mesh our negative, our positive, our vegetables
eyes.
But answers are not real, belonging is a myth;
stories tell truth.  The cords that bind
the winding stair,
and the risen’s rise will raise the risen this day
and every day those above will deliver the past.

And yet
the chimpanzee writes laws
and the personalities wither
scrubbing the stones at the feet of butterflies snacking on
baby toes.

Still
we walk the water’s edge, secrets breeding,
and then, revealed, the water evaporates to desert
calving ice to rising trees.
Rise!  Rise!  Rise!
Only when the washed world recedes,
and the baby toes catch in all-too-human
craws,
when the eyes cloud to the rising sun,
there the witness mashes gritty sand
cheek to surf,
at the sunset let the pooling cool,
let the choice and the fortune strike even,
and light fade from the scene.

The witness awaits
Stars without end
The negative, the lonely, the outlandish.