How will love fare on a far, strange planet ?
Something tells me, just fine.
Astronauts are after all as human as the rest,
On those long and lonely voyages to Sigma Ceti Nine.
It really doesn’t matter how Control attempts to plan it –
Some eventualities are harder to decline,
And improvised solutions are unlikely to be guessed
Until that fateful moment when our instincts come online.
Then to the fore comes ambiguity,
When foreign incongruity’s the only game in town.
But, when it comes to promiscuity,
Then human ingenuity will never let us down.
We are the pioneers
Across the galaxy we plumb
We are the copuleers
We boldly go and boldly come
So Human-Alien exchanges probe
To grasp a firmer bond –
Exploring green and grey and blond,
Until enquiring ends combine
In intimate communion.
We’ll scout each sucker, fin and lobe,
And softly test how they respond
To fingers from the great beyond –
And arms and tentacles entwine
In interstellar union.
I have heard it suggested that humans would be disgusted by anything even-slightly non-human. After all, for all we snigger at bestiality, it’s a very rare proclivity. And just look at our closest neighbours, the chimps – when the females are in heat, their genitals swell up to advertise the fact, though good luck getting any human gentlemen callers with that trick !
So if we’re six million years too distant for Pan-spermia, what hope have we of getting horny for alien horns ? Well, I think it’s a case of uncanny valley and not marrying cousins. After all, there’s way more octopus porn than monkey business.