haha

A Martian Named John

There’s a Martian living on my block,
Don’t know if we’ll exchange breaths today.
His arms are red with claws for toes,
And often he’ll shout words through his nose.

See my block is in the ‘burbs, they say,
The southern part of San Jose.
And the people here are nice, I guess,
But they like to close their doors and walls.

On one special day, the claws came out to play.
“I’ve lived here 7 years”, the Martian said,
So full of dread, “And never did I know a man,
Who lives within that tree-lined pad.”

The Martian said his name was John, (Hello everyone, my name is John)
But all these years he went by Bob. (People just started calling me Bob)
The neighbors gaped, they did not know,
As John’s neutral mask fell to the flo’.

And underneath the real thing looked,
At all the neighbors, ready with hooks.
But I stood out and yelled, “Please wait,
Don’t you see what John’s done this day?”

The people turned toward unknown faces,
Unknown kids and unknown races.
A man who’d complained of overgrown branches,
Finally said thanks for apple packed lunches.

And all the people met their neighbors,
Shook hands and patted backs that gave them,
A quiet place to live and stay, but John
He up and walked away, and winked at me,

As he left for now. Would they remember,
Red arms and claws and Martian face?
I’d never met a Martian before that day,
And I sure hoped he was here to stay.