Prophecy

A scattered dream

I was there

In a warehouse of many things

The boss man had a mass-production mold

To stamp-out expensive red sports cars

But I had to leave

Dodging carts full of various goods

Pushed by part-time workers

From Pakistan and India

I crossed the street

And approached a church

I saw an old woman, plainly dressed

Pleading to another woman

Dressed as a proper Plymouth pilgrim

A shotgun resting in her left elbow crook

She replied to the old woman grimly,

“I ain’t got no rights”

Then she turned away

From the old woman

To set fire to a large container

Of aluminum sulfide

Bright flames erupted

And I hurried away

From the toxic smoke billowing forth

Background people all around

Were running to and fro

Acting quite strangely

In some apparent panic

The cause of which was unclear

Then I turned my gaze skyward

And there, through a hole in the clouds

I saw huge blue spaceships

Hovering menacingly above

Waiting to take over the Earth