by Dylan

Happy Birthday, H.G. Wells - by Dylan

Hours of shooting
hours of screams, snot and lisps
on the playground.

They called it a 'shadow assignment'-

half the afternoon
spent in a standing camera cramp,
thinking I was getting something
perfecto.

And then I download.

And all I can think is,
aliens.

Disembodied
sinuous shapes
with levitating balls and rings.

Little beings from Mars.

And damn.
They are.