The cost of a space trip.
|When I first saw Last Minute Again UFO,|
it had landed because motivation was low.
There were red lights and green lights in cowling and dome,
and it listed in an environment far from home.
As I happened upon it, autumn winds were stiff;
it had landed near the edge of a narrow cliff.
For such a massive UFO, I thought it close;
the thought of it going over made me morose.
I saw some Grays milling about the landing gear
and, being adventurous, moseyed over to hear
what sounded like intensive bickering extant.
I could not understand their tongue, yet knew it was rant.
Then they caught sight of me and the rant tapered off;
(but I could not help notice one elder Gray scoff.)
Yet I captured their confidence and by the ship
communicated my desire for a space trip.
(Maybe body language, or a look in the eyes,
seems to be universal with little surprise.
But transcending the wants of all life apropos,
in the needs of the cosmos is that old quid pro quo.)
I had not much to offer these beings for ride
save the clothes on my back and surrender of pride.
So I pulled out my wallet and gave them a ten;
in all of those Gray alien eyes I saw, “Amen!”
You would think currency was plutonium fuel
as the thinness of greenback elicited drool.
Thus the Grays all en masse corned me by the door
and like Oliver pleading for soup, demanded more.
And I thought, how psychology transcends the stars,
how intrinsic the wants, be it Venus or Mars.
It is true that the take often stops where we live,
but in truth, basic harmony begins with a give.
I beheld all the faces of alien Grays
as I reached in my pocket and saw unslaked gaze.
Had four dimes and a one for a Minute expense;
what I paid was a mere dollar and forty cents.
October, 18, 2013