I treat aliens
Few psychiatrists can make this claim and
Keep life and job
My first case declared “he” was depressed
Too far from home
Never get back in time to die
When I asked where
Tentacles and silver claws shot from his head
One pair of seven
Death, Parasitized, Mindmeld or lunch?
(It was late morning and I was famished)
He resumed human form, explained
“I just want to fit in.
Like everybody else.”
“You’re not everybody,” I said quickly.
Good thing we agreed that was a problem
As were the bizarre actions of humans
“They baffle me every day,” he chimed
Knew nothing of ETs beyond Sci-Fi
Would my Hippocratic oath remain in force?
“Be flexible” he suggested,
“And don’t think we’re here to take over.
Nor can we influence what you do.”
“What if we never knew?” All his claws came out;
A gesture of polite resignation
“Aren’t you mostly without a clue?”
I conceded his point
I learned Earth was a wildlife refuge
“We’re the wildlife?” I asked
“Well, you’re not protecting anything.”
His job description next flew under my ceiling
A spinning and scintillating platinum orb
“Species liaison. Which species?”
His main job to keep peace with ETs
“They’re tourists, sex addicts
Researchers and assorted riff-raff.
Some study the beginnings of intelligence.”
A green tentacle slid out. A shrug, I think.
“I’ve headaches all round. And I’ve got six heads.”
“You said seven.”
He tapped his temple. “Plus this fake one.”
Six insect skulls appeared
Each laughing like a marimba
Soon more clients arrived
I now study food, celebrities, and fashion
With sincere single minded desperation
This gig has more quirks than perks
My health problems fixed immediately
Ditto tax audits and parking tickets;
Sometimes I travel long to see my charges
Yet money is never an issue
Their counterfeits are perfect
ETs almost human in their constant demands
But I admit I enjoy their pathologies
After all my lifespan is short
They promise extensions if
I take one orbital trip
And no, I don’t fear them
Anyone with technology to zip through the galaxy
Can hack my brain before I’d know
You think they already have?
Or perhaps suspect I’m fibbing
Bulshitting to get pointless sympathy;
I suggest you open your eyes
Impossible stuff is happening every day
Don’t just see