WATERMARK

a poet’s notebook


Established 02004

Reject

 

 

Today we viewed the holos of the new

people. If they are people. Their bodies

are vertically elongated. They move

on two appendages. This is the only

thing about them we can admire, such

amazing balance.

 

They are otherwise awkward, ugly.

They have no fur, except a bit

at the top of their bodies. Their skin

is dull, with some tonal variety, but all

sand, dust, soil. They wrap up  

in artificial color.

 

They do not speak. They communicate

with sound waves produced by their

bodies. The exo-linguists insist this

is language. Though the upper limbs

have moveable appendages,

apparently they cannot dance.

 

They have no claws. Their teeth

are blunt and dull. Their skin has no

protection, no fur, no scales, no

thick beautiful hide. They cannot

run, but only stumble quickly. Despite,

or perhaps because of this,

 

they are immensely violent. We have

duels, yes; and doubles. But these

others engage in crowds. Dozens,

even hundreds at a time; and these

contests are unregulated and are not

evenly matched.

 

They kill each other from a distance,

from safely high above the field,

one can – and does – kill many.

Even from across the planet, one

will kill thousands with no risk to itself.

All this without cause or benefit

 

that we can discern. They require

two individuals with differently made

bodies to reproduce. Such mating need

not be mutually accepted. Even this,

with them, is often violent, involving

weaponry and wounding.

 

They live on a full and abundant

planet. But they live as if in poverty.

They strip the life from the skin

of their world. They strip the life

from each other. I call on you,

all my kin, to reject this contact.

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