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Jey Blu Nov 2018
Amanda confidently made the first incision on the corpse, as she’d done many times before. Starting near the right shoulder, she pulled the scalpel through the layers of tissue down the middle of the abdomen. She bobbed her head as she worked, listening to Where Did the Party Go by Fall Out Boy. The pathologist turned away from the body and pushed her long black hair out of her hands with her wrist. Taking her gloves off, she turned the **** on her speaker. “My old aches become new again, my old friends become exes again…” She hummed the tune while securing her locks in a ponytail. Pausing, she picked up her phone and rewinded the music. She could have sworn she Patrick Stump sing the words, “Woah, where did the body go?” Listening closer this time, she started the song. “Woah, where did the party go?” played through the speaker. She shook her head and took another sip of her coffee.
She gazed at the ceiling, bright lights blinding her suddenly. “Jordan!” She waited for a reply. Nothing. She called again. Flustered, she sighed and looked over at the schedule pinned to the wall. Jordan wasn’t scheduled today, Amanda was the only one. “Then why did the lights- Never mind.” She was obviously just tired. Tugging on another pair of gloves, she picked up a pair of forceps and a scalpel and turned back towards the body. It was gone! She looked behind and underneath the table, thinking it had fallen. It wasn’t there. “****! How am I going to explain this to the family?”
“You can’t.” She jumped at the deep, gravelly voice. “Wh-who are you?” she asked with uncertainty. Amanda was too afraid to look him in the face yet. “That’s not important,” the voice replied. “We need you to come with us.”
“We?” She looked towards the direction of the voice. There were thirteen men in black suits with dark shades standing in formation at the door. “Why? Will you tell me where the body is?”
“Just follow us, ma’am. We’ll explain everything in the car.” She followed them out the door. The man who spoke led her to a black Range Rover with extremely tinted windows. Once they were in the car, the man introduced himself. “I’m Peter C. Schultz. I work with the MIB.”
“MIB? Like in that movie with Will Smith?” She sounded confused.
“Exactly. But we don’t get laser guns.” He smiled, hoping to earn her trust.
She laughed softly and looked out the window. “So was he an alien?”
“Possibly. The craft seems to have removed the body, sensing alien DNA in the area.” Peter looked over his shoulder, quickly pulled out of the parking spot and turned onto the highway. Amanda still wasn’t sure if she was awake. Aliens? MIB? A disappearing body? What if they had taken her instead? All types of thoughts swirled through her head.
They arrived at a large, nondescript building. She hopped out of the range rover and shut her door. The men lead her into the building and down the hall to an interrogation room.
“So, Ms. Browne, tell me. Did you notice any strange noises or lights at the time the body “Um. Yeah, yeah, uh, there was. I was listening to music and the lyrics sounded different. I replayed the track and it sounded normal. There was also a bright flash of light right before I noticed the body was gone. I thought it was my assistant, but they didn’t weren’t on the schedule.”
“We’ve heard of the lyrics changing before. The lights are different, they don’t usually come that close.” Peter sighed.
“Before? You mean to tell me people’s bodies have been stolen by aliens before? What the hell?!? Why doesn’t the government tell us these things?” She started to panic.
“Calm down, Ms. Browne. The MIB has it all under control. Amanda stared him in the eyes. “Really? Because there are BODIES missing! That doesn’t seem under control!” She was yelling at this point.
Peter took a step towards her. She continued to glare at him. All of a sudden, his eyes went black. Amanda was confused. This had to be a dream. A lizard like tongue flicked out of Peter’s mouth. Blood poured out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. She screamed and tried to run. A hand with sharp long nails and slender blue fingers came up from behind her shoulder and covered her mouth. She was instantly silenced. Another hand pushed her back to her chair, the alien body pressing against her. She forcibly sat down. The hands let go of her. The terrified pathologist tried to scream but didn’t have the ability to even whisper. Peter’s form changed into a tall, blue, thin body with disproportionately long arms and neck. She shook from head to toe, when suddenly she heard a strange voice in her mind. It spoke in alien tongue but she could somehow understand it. It said, “Look into the mirror placed in front of you. Be terrified of what you see and know it is your truth.” With shaky hands, she picked up the piece of reflective glass lying in front of her. Bringing it to her face, she looked at the aliens and then herself. She stared back into cold black eyes. She opened her mouth and could see the lizard tongue curled up between her sharp, pointed teeth. She expected to be scared, but instead felt strangely content. She noticed a new hunger awakening from deep inside her. Amanda stood up and walked over to the aliens. Her own kind. She spoke in the native alien language she now had a name for, Kewalanaei. “Do you have anymore of the body left? I need flesh.” Peter grinned toothily and led her into a room where hundreds of bodies lay. They feasted.
I know this isn't a poem or perfectly edited but its just something I wrote for class and kinda liked. I might start doing more 45 minute writes. Hope you enjoy it :)
Robyn Kekacs Apr 2012
You can't hear me talk, can barely hear me sing
My apologies fall deaf on you and what washes over, stings
I fall head first into your ocean, enveloped in waves of rough cement
But through this capture you are peaceful
My battered form makes you content

It's funny how they call the past, the past,
And not the present
You greet the currency of times with nothing but resent
You tell me you know what I see
Laugh toothily as I fall to my knees
Engulfed with pain deeper, than my own
As I watch you fall steeper

It is impossible to stamp the blame
To disrupt your flawless form
I wouldn't dare to place a mark on you, nor tell you what you've worn
I'll motivate my stiffened mind, though you tell me that I can't
Collective moments form the clog
And I have become the ant

It comes as no surprise that
Your comfort scares me so
Behind each understanding is a reckless anecdote
A fury-littered monologue
A venom worded rant
The apology won't matter
Cause I am still the ant

It's difficult to swallow, though
My pills were hours ago
I softly stroke the future that I know is doomed, but floats
It treads above the water, as buoyant as it can
I guess future doesn't matter
I will always be the ant.
janel schroth Jul 2013
i'll write a poem for every time i
f
e
l
l

for you

i.
we were on the phone
silence filling the line
until you shoveled through
and asked me
if it was just you
or were we both toothily grinning over each other

that was a trip on the pavement
that resulted in scraped knees

ii.
once again,
i enabled the silence
to pervade through us
that was until you came out with it
y o u ' r e
s a d ,
a r e n ' t
y o u ?


that was a slip off a ladder
that resulted in a sprained ankle and wrist

iii.
i spoke the painstaking truth
of fat and not-good-enoughness
i spoke of pressure and ugliness
and you saw through the flaws
as if they were perfectly normal

that was a freefall off a cliff
that resulted in a comatose state
where i had nothing to live off of
except your love
kfaye Aug 2018
i am synthesized under a microscope
like being shot through by many arrows
slowly-
slidedark around the corners of the glass.
i twist and roll .      belly over
ribs
as her eyes, chalky, talk to me.
i take it
toothily
soil-minded, both.
heads with weapons.

gritty gums is love+
dim viewfinder is love+

dust in the screen-shine
and shoes under the table

[my] cheeks are drying out
each time they are swabbed.

[i could be i n the world
i could be in this world]

the watchband is tightening. as the arms
are . swelling
as the sea is rising
rinsing salt [and other semi-conductors]
around in my mouth
caking crystals deeply into pores and
dimples

like thefloodlights         coming     o  n
to **** with the lives of bats
and bugs .     both

— The End —