Caveat: Poem #953

I set aside my thoughts, just walking.
The alien along the road
appeared and gave me pause, his talking –
his soulless pleadings – like a code
made up of tangled verbs and meanings
from which I got the barest gleanings.
I followed through an open gate,
his gestures seemed to show we’re late,
how could I know, could he be trusted?
In dark and looming halls we roamed,
his pointless words spilled out and foamed.
We stopped beside machines, all rusted.
And he explained what he had planned,
but still I didn’t understand.