Tuesday, 4 August 2026

Matryoshka

I love when when creepy humans get outed as aliens in films,

There’s a little chap piloting a sophisticated human mech.

They always die too; might be our atmosphere.

I like to think they die of embarrassment having been found out.

Discovered to death,

Found…dead,

I wonder if there is a little pilot in my head,

Twisting knobs, or steering. 

Pilot-y things.

Maybe, someone pilots him.

We crack open his fragile, eggshell skull.

Only to find…a tinier guy. 

Roughly tic-tac sized,

and in him?

Has a speck of a pilot been located?

Or merely speculated?

Surely a failing of human eyes.

It would beg loads of questions technology-wise.

How small the rabbit hole goes can be debated,

at least I know the biggest size,