"Is an Alien an Animal?"

    Does it pad around on soft feet?
    Does it shiver and shake in the cold sleet?
    Does it yearn for the summer heat?
    Does it salivate for fresh raw meat?

    Is there dirt in its matted fur?
    If you pet it, would it purr?
    Does it run so fast it is just a blur?
    Can you catch it with a well made lure?

    Does it rake its nails through the hard packed soil?
    Can it wind its arms into a writhing coil?
    If you touch its lips, are they slick with oil?
    To its well worn foot path, will it be loyal?

    Where does it sleep on a moonlit night?
    Does it hold its mother, gripped with fright?
    Will it raise its head to the morning light?
    And can it cackle with vicious delight?

    It sits uncertain, frail and new
    Corpus beaded with a predawn dew
    Patiently awaiting a fated cue
    It hastens to ask if you are an animal too.