LOL Brian! I only said that because I'm Martin the Martian.
Here's another.
Night Terrors
Shadows of bombers creep across the plains
like phantoms, the mirror moon turns night to day,
and there’s no time to dash or drive away
from circumstances that will leave bright stains
on the flesh of the fresh craters. How the pains
of trauma will rival the rainbow-flowers of May!
a time of exploration, planting, play,
a time of thunderstorms that bring the rains
which grow the lavish lawns and lengthen leaves
creating the viridescence a season of suns
will bathe in light. Yet as these myriad sheaves
of visions rustle inside your brain, your breath
catches. You hear a scream. A child runs
across a threshold. And you wake from death.