The Drover and the Alien
Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2013 6:10 am
Here's a poem for Isaac Asimov's magazine - though I suspect I may be a few decades too late.
The Drover and the Aliens
I came across a drover on the dusty Birdsville Track.
He had a grisly tale to tell that took me quite aback.
His gait was quite unsteady. With a glazed look in his eye,
He told me he’d been taken by a space-ship to the sky.
He said that he’d been drugged, and then been cuffed by hands and feet;
Treated very rudely, like a butcher’s slab of meat.
An anal probe had been inserted, measurements were taken,
Till at last he’d been released, in pain, and badly shaken.
He said it wasn’t only him. They’d taken all his mates.
They too had been tied down and had these probes shoved up their dates.
Their horses had been whisked away, and they’d been probed as well,
And a thousand head of cattle and, as far as he could tell,
Of all these men and lowly beasts, mechanically raped,
He was the only one who’d slipped his captors and escaped.
He begged of me to spread the news. He felt that soon he’d die,
And join his dear departed mates ensconced above the sky.
He held a stubby in his hand. His eyes were tinged with green.
I had a a strong suspicion that the only place he’d been
Was down the pub. Indeed, that was what I was poised to say…
But a gleaming metal space-ship came and carried me away!
© Stephen Whiteside 09.02.3013
The Drover and the Aliens
I came across a drover on the dusty Birdsville Track.
He had a grisly tale to tell that took me quite aback.
His gait was quite unsteady. With a glazed look in his eye,
He told me he’d been taken by a space-ship to the sky.
He said that he’d been drugged, and then been cuffed by hands and feet;
Treated very rudely, like a butcher’s slab of meat.
An anal probe had been inserted, measurements were taken,
Till at last he’d been released, in pain, and badly shaken.
He said it wasn’t only him. They’d taken all his mates.
They too had been tied down and had these probes shoved up their dates.
Their horses had been whisked away, and they’d been probed as well,
And a thousand head of cattle and, as far as he could tell,
Of all these men and lowly beasts, mechanically raped,
He was the only one who’d slipped his captors and escaped.
He begged of me to spread the news. He felt that soon he’d die,
And join his dear departed mates ensconced above the sky.
He held a stubby in his hand. His eyes were tinged with green.
I had a a strong suspicion that the only place he’d been
Was down the pub. Indeed, that was what I was poised to say…
But a gleaming metal space-ship came and carried me away!
© Stephen Whiteside 09.02.3013
