Member Poem

The Alien's New Shoes

She was hard to please,
trying on twenty seven pairs,
each time thumping my head
with her long talons
making sure I was attentive.
"Find me those shoes, or die!"

She reminds me of Grace Jones,
gives out those throaty vibes,
as if she can sing if she wants to,
as if she has ever had an audience.

Not here, not on this planet.
but I stifled my feelings,
returned to the stockroom.
There was one box left,
size XXXXL, and red.

I was one lucky man.
They fit, she loved them.
And now I have another year
to find a job doing something else.

-Marge Simon