Relax, because the aliens
watching you on Earth TV
must be into stripped-down, artsy,
not-overly-dramatic cinéma verité,
if they’ve been watching you, faithfully,
thus far.

So you can do without the car chase,
and just swallow, with a slight furrow of the brow,
that cutting remark of the overworked supermarket teller.
This isn’t Sopranos. Your fans
don’t need to see every vendetta explode into light.

They must, for their own reasons,
like the way the way that you put the bags in the trunk,
and then take a moment,
eyes squinting under the sun,
thinking about something or other,
there on a Tuesday afternoon.