Evidently frogs lie in wait,

And the moon sets on stranger ground,
Than we will ever imagine,

Grey landscapes of endless twilight and,
Shifting sand,

Shadows that congeal into shapeless forms,
Gliding over dank walls,

Flowing into dimly lit caverns,
Filled with hunched figures,

Hundreds of them,
Four limbed slugs captured eons ago,

Growing wings and emerging from sacs,

Peering into neon and,
Farting occasionally,

Stubby limbs chained to,
Grimey floors,

Tubes running into foreheads,
Ruffling DNA,

Every so often we run into humans,
Who do not understand,

That they are only Earthlings,
This side of the Universe,

Night flies on computer screens,
Attracted to the light completely.