Fox Mulder Retires
The wise remain invisible as aliens.
My face goes blank as snow,
knowing the truth is worse than a lie,
a forest of trees we can’t see.
My face goes numb as snow falls,
a gradual avalanche of white lies
in a forest of white trees, until I’m snowblind.
You can have my share of the truth,
buried in an avalanche of FOIA documents.
When Roswell crashed on Truman’s desk,
he knew he couldn’t share the truth.
The planet was still numb from World War Two.
When aliens crashed in Roswell, New Mexico,
the world was busy trying to recover,
still numb from the atomic bomb we dropped.
Decades drop like sunsets in my rearview.
The world recovers through conspiracies.
Wise aliens remain invisible as theories
while decades drop bombs in my rearview.
The truth? Truth is the worst lie I know.