My right hand on the arm rest starts to cramp
I daren't release the tether lest I leap
My left hand shields my eyes, a trembling clamp
A millimetre gap affords a peep.
And so I watch as Ripley finds the nest
(this scene's the best, you're free to disagree)
…to rescue Newt, her suicidal quest
….in whom the viewers have their hearts invested
…..Ripley flambés alien eggs with zest
……then plucks the girl before she is digested
…….checks the Queen in battle breast to breast
……..and leaves us on a cinematic crest!
But six years on, we're told Newt WAS infested;
Why did we bother seeing ‘Alien 3'?
Diane Hine
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aliens-mostly/
