Invasion

was more of a delusion,

a side-stepping of a dream 

of meaning, 

of dire fire-building on drafty plains.  The eleventh hour

contained more headlines

than a stomach could ever acid.  Invasion

travelled by wire, as fast as mongrel fear

could follow.  Invasion as isolation, as a Munsch of paranoia,

in the end we are alone,

we and the wonderful Id of Oz.   Invasion,

at first your neighbours, then

the others, at last your-self.  Invasion was a pound of cure

inflicted upon the healthy. 

Are you infected, they

asked and I answered

I was never exposed.