Alpha Male Martian

by Mignon Ariel King

Photo by Brian Michael Barbeito

A slab, grey and bumpy, hurtling through the outer sphere, 
begins MIT talk of extraterrestrials. Haven't you heard this
comic con before?  Remember tales from 1947 or so?
Do we need to fantasize about New Mexico while Mexico is
enmeshed with twirling, slashing Slinkies? Everyone wants to be
first to discover anything breathing that behaves better than our
globe mates.  E.T. can't save humanity.  There are no more 
home phones, connections, umbilicals. Dressing up like
Isis or Wonder Woman or Power Puffs is nothing but a
joker's wild attempts to find love. Really, isn't that what every
kid and pretty bachelor-girl who has overplayed her hand
longs for?  Earthly emotions have all coupled up or dried up, but
Martians might be different?!  They could be green after all,
not all hung up on appearances. Every human wants a better
offer.  Each man, a finer woman. Each woman, a better
person, someone out of her league, beyond his means, no
questions asked. All you need isn't love, my friends, free of
ridicule that's doled out to the weakest by bullies lacking
sensitivity.  Be honest.  Look outside.  Where is The One
Terran worth all the chivalry, jousting, windmill tilting, sonnets,
upside-down Valentine-scribbling Lancelot love lyrics and
vows of protection that a mere human spirit can draw forth?
Wouldn't it be lovely if he/she existed?  Lovelier, still, if you did?
Xenophobia for the girl or boy next door has everyone on edge,
yearning for the exotic. The exceptional. The telescopic!
Zero gravity will land an eligible Martian. It's just a damn rock.