23 | Poetry by Paul David Adkins, Winner of the Central NY Book Award for Poetry
My Uncle Jake, the One Who Drank a Lot, Explains to Me the Origins of Shakespeare and Jesus and Newton
They were aliens.
They were dropped somewhere south of London,
just north of the Sea of Galilee
in the dead
of night, their marching orders engraved
on metal sheets,
which the agents read
then melted with their ray guns,
before burying all traces of their space-lives
in the desert,
in the moors.
The saucer lights were off,
the engines muffled.
This was all a secret.
You will go and change
the world. You will go
embrace these savages
who will, in turn, hang, embrace, imprison
We will return
to pick you up
We will keep you
in our prayers.
And the spaceship lifted
silent as a moon.
silhouetted against a tilting portal,
flashed his triple-lidded eyes farewell.