Aliens on Mars

on Mars
we’ll be the odd fish
red-soaked & stumping

masks oblate
like heaving moons
spinning light
among obscured eyes

fish with no water
& snorkelled air
& the way we’ll float
heavy as bobbing pumpkins

lungs are foreign on Mars
we’ll carry them outside ourselves
viscous & wheezy
on hum-along pipes

flapping tents
cosy as headless raincoats
will people the desert
whitely

but we’ll dress in green
just to see some
just to know
that green is still there
waiting for our eyes

Aliens on Mars

ponds of us
will surge onto sand
rummaging boot toes
pretending our way home