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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Sci-fi · #2197207
I am implanted by space aliens.
I’ve got a blue spider in my neck.
Aliens from Orion surgically put it there.
I learned Spider is an acronym which stands for:
Small Personal Infrared Detection Energy Receiver.
So I am controlled, guided, manipulated by the Orions.
They could have picked someone from another country,
but they picked me, an American, to do their sly observing.
At night they come, high overhead, and I am duly commanded.
And just like a mechanical man, an automated obeyer of invaders,
I wander to and fro ‘cross courtyards, streets and avenues in wee 
hours watching, making mental notes, keeping my head up and
my ears attuned to any specific orders these Orions may have.
I have no life; I have no will—these aliens took every last dram.
At times, when nights are slow, I awaken and ask, Who am I?
I know ’tis strange that I’d confess to being implanted thus,
yet a part of freewill reigns in me and I am want to follow.
Alas, Orion’s current flows much like a coursing river,
then freewill lounges easily sipping icy lemonade
as alien intentions flood my brain until I perceive
Orion goal: subversive interstellar opportunists. 
I plead, Why? to no one save a Seth Thomas
timepiece ticking rhythmically on my wall,
and feel a wrenching in my gut of being
a simple catspaw for future takeover.
I am merely eyes for unearthly foes,
a spyglass for zealous wannabes
with designs on Earth as a prize.
I feel that blue spider in my neck;
it isn’t hard since it is near the surface.
I grit my teeth and clench my fist to no avail. 
Just that this Earth is already spoken for, thank you.
Return to your own world along with your expansionism.
This is galling and now another three A.M. call comes; I rise.
So much to boil my blood, so much to burn inside like a brush
fire, so much to loathe that I want to cut this device out from
my neck; I do not care about bleeding’s inconvenience…but
Orions have outwitted me—implant has its own defense!
Spider is so smart, is causes pain when threatened.
And so I wonder, what will they want tonight?  Will
it be a scan, reconnaissance or the power grid?

40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197207