Sci-Fi Horror
He hulks apart, his relatives across
The aisle as if he doesn’t want them to
Be recognized as his, as though they’re dross.
He reads a monstrous DUNE book, sci-fi brew
Of threat, adventure, and a plot that’s made
Of characters as far from aunts and Mum
And him as poss. His blubber wants to fade
Them out and frame himself far away from
The awful flab and freckled skin he shares
With family victims. Alien stomping
Is maybe what he wants (for them). He glares
Occasionally, wishing for fatal chomping.
His T-shirt’s even worse. A woman’s breast
Is printed over his. At least he’s dressed!!!