An alien with a bumpy, protruding head
Click-clack, click-clack, a rusty, armored robot
A mannequin, standing still, doing whatever it’s told
Bob the head, constantly shaking its head
These aren’t words that just come from imagination. It’s me.
It’s not now. It was me.
I grabbed the safety handle and kicked back.
I turn my head over my shoulder and look at the extended leg behind me.
Oh! Where did my leg go?
After searching for a while, I looked down at the floor,
and my foot was just three inches from the ground.
