They Will Sew the Blue Sail

New Adventures in Sci-fi | Jaswinder Bolina

we inhabit a bland planet prattle and shop in precincts

no photons torpedo nobody wormholes nobody

telekinetic not one of us can fly but we sweat

no interest accruing on our MasterCards either

no caps on our data plans no gaps in our Medicaid

through the fevers of spring through our seventeen

months of summer our seven throngs of fall

when the leaves change several times an hour

until it snows those days we need it to snow

so the sun can thaw the barrio dry lay itself easy

as a leg draped across your legs on a porch swing

everybody has a porch swing the beat cops wave to

when they pass they don’t protect us brutal

they don’t police the teeth out of our heads

or hunt us as if they are monsters afraid

of the dark we are not fearful of any invaders

emigrating into our Oort cloud no jingo caucus

gums up our galactic congress no bigot polemic

commandeers our election cycle our super PACs

protect us our lobbyists defend us even

our Republicans consider our expertise

not one is an American there’s no such thing

as Americans there are only bisexuals

all forty-six of our black presidents all

thirty-seven of them women all us bisexuals

infatuated with each other and all our caliphs want

is a key party all our Zions require mutual consent

there is no God there is no God so we get on

with our farming and cookery so when the aliens come

they come for our cuisine they stay for our bar scene

tip us heavy and split their spliffs with us at sunup

on the beach before breakfast before taking us

for a matinee where they marvel at our CGI

the Real3D of our worry that depicts them daft

as we are hungry grunts always fixing for a fight