The aliens came.
They dropped upon
the dusty plain
riding machines
planting flags
that could not wave.

Clouds rose,
hiding our approach
from our burrows,
across the tortured tracks
Long ears twitching,
whiskered snouts a quiver.

Determined to seize
a living prize, we raise
mirror-bright swords
into the Earth-light
These black-faced uprights
would curse their intrusion

Into our austere
cratered places,
littering our barreness.
We shall rise, a living tide,
eyes flaming, waging the war
of the lunar rabbits.

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The REAL reason we stopped going to the moon.
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