Christopher Andersson, On Martians
When Herschel spotted distant water in
the quiet crimson orb behind the sky,
he sparked in dreams, in stories, life outside
Earth, in the heavens- we were not alone.
Bradbury and Wells narrated the first
contact (read: conflict), silver saucers held
a vague and bulbous, fragile gray people
with neon lasers green and dreamlike peace.
The Mariner (our answer to their absence)
a voyager across the void to meet
a newer face at Mars. When we got there
all we found was the barren rusting ground:
another empty thing among vacant lots.
