Blister Mister
By Ornay Mahornayorn.
From Planet Mister’s silver stream,
Where moonlight flows in chrome-like gleam,
Came river-aliens, sleek and bright,
To conquer Earth one starless night.
Their skin was silver, smooth and grand,
Their saucer hummed above the land;
Their leader cried, “Prepare the way!
Earth shall be ours before first day!”
But there was one small cosmic hitch,
A troublesome anatomical glitch:
Their feet were huge—enormous, toes
Like gleaming barges, row on rows.
Especially each majestic thumb—
Their big toes made the shoe shops numb.
Neither lunar loafer, Martian mule,
Nor Saturn sandal fit the rule.
“Barefoot,” declared their alien king,
“Is quite a noble way to bring
Our interstellar might and grace
To every unsuspecting place.”
So down they floated, silent, sly,
Beneath the dark Texas sky;
At San Gabriel’s South Fork shore,
Their shiny saucer touched the floor.
The recon squad stepped out with pride,
Their massive naked feet spread wide;
They whispered, “Soon this world is ours—
Its rivers, roads, and radio towers!”
Then Captain Gliss, with polished grin,
Put one great toe where ants lived in.
A mound of fire ants, small but fierce,
Was waiting there to bite and pierce.
“Oh, what is this?” cried Gliss in pain.
“Some Earthly lava in my vein?”
The ants marched up in blazing files
For miles and miles and blistering miles.
Their toxins burned! Their toes swelled round!
The silver scouts all leaped and bound.
One yelled, “Retreat! Forget the war!
My feet have never hurt before!”
The saucer shook with panicked cries:
“Emergency! Return to skies!”
The alien king, now hopping too,
Said, “Cancel Earth—this world is through!”
And thus the great invasion plan
Was stopped by tiny insect clan.
No laser beam or mighty fleet—
Just Texas ants and tender feet.
Back home on Mister, tales are told
Of Earth’s fierce hills of burning gold.
The river-aliens now all agree:
“Never invade without boots—yee-haw, gee!”
They ordered pairs in XXL,
From cowboy shops in far space well;
But every bootmaker shook his head:
“Those toes need barns,” the cobblers said.
So if one night you hear a hum
And see a saucer drifting come,
Look toward the sky and you may hear:
“Blister Mister! Them’s fire ants we fear!”
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About the Author : Ornay Mahornayorn on toes has corns & woes.
About the Artist : Romeo Esparrago is allergic to those dadburn ants.
PLANET MAGAZINE 