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        Day 89.

Do you think they miss us yet ?
Back home, I mean…
Do you think they’ve started yet to suss ?
It’s been a while.
Let’s see…it’s been…
Well, long enough to make a fuss.

And we never said we were going –
Just routine,
They’re unconcerned.
We’ve always been there – till we weren’t –
Perhaps we’re waiting for the bus…

Do you think they miss us yet ?
Have they a hunch ?
Do you think we’re something they discuss ?
It’s been some while,
A long, long lunch.
Or were we just superfluous ?

We’ll never be able to tell them,
What we’ve seen
Or what we’ve learned –
They had to be there, but they weren’t –
Nobody was, but us.

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        Day 71.

I’m sorry for yesterday.
I’m sad to say, I’m feeling rather Marvin now.
Maybe you are too – but hang in with me,
We’ll pull through, you’ll see –
We’ll make it back somehow.
I met an alien last night
Who cheered me up a bit
We didn’t speak, but what a sight !
They had these scores of legs that wouldn’t fit
And just kept falling off,
Unless they took great care to never cough.
I guess there’s evolution working there,
But God knows what it is.
Perhaps they really had it bad,
Far worse than me, far worse than this.
Perhaps.  I guess that shouldn’t make me glad,
But there you are.
I even smiled, the first time in, oh, I don’t know.
Anyway, on to the next strange star,
On to another Brave New World we go.

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        Day 70.

Another trip to another moon
Of another world of another star
That gets me nowhere nowhen soon,
And leaves me every bit as far.
And after all my pointless striding,
You’ve the chance to stride it too
And just like me, you’ll find no ride
To take you home to Planet Blue.
So what’s the bloody point at all ?
Just what’s the bloody point ?
We tour the stars, but every call
Is just another same-old joint,
With just the same damn knobbly leaves,
And just the same damn hopeless chase,
And petty clerks, and scummy thieves,
And endless miles of endless space.

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        Day 63.

Do you ever feel like,
I don’t know…
Like maybe someone else
Could live your life much better,
Than you do ?
I get that, too.
I sometimes feel I’m wasted,
Seeing all this damned adventure,
When I wish I’d never tasted
But a tenth of all this new.
I mean, I try to be amazed,
But surely there are others,
Far more worthy, far less glazed,
Who would dig this cosmic zoo.
Ah, don’t mind me, mate,
I’m feeling just a little blue.
I guess I must admit,
I’m nothing great, I’m not the best –
I’m on the B-Ark manifest
Without a clue.
But here I am, and here you are,
We have to stride from star to star,
For if we stop and sulk, well,
We won’t get very far,
It’s true.

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        Day 55.

Isn’t it amazing news
How ev’ry airport looks the same ?
A giant warehouse full of queues,
I know, let’s play a game:
It’s guaranteed your flight’s delayed,
So take a look around the hall –
I know they’re aliens and all,
But still the same old cavalcade:

I spy, with a weary eye
An alien who’s lost his bags,
An insectoid afraid to fly,
A duty-free with tat and mags,
A child so bored she barely coping.
And security by goons:
(They’re utter vogons, those baboons,
With tentacles for better groping.)

Never mind.  At least you’re through –
They don’t much like us hitchers much.
Now find a UFO with crew
Who’ll let you ride by paying Dutch.
But just before they close the dome,
Look back.  For ev’ry grief and queue,
And ev’ry alien in view…
It’s good, for once, to feel at home.

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        Day 44.

It’s time to get off this planet,
It’s time to get out and roam,
It’s time for a trip in a rocket-ship,
To be one world closer to home.
So smuggle yourself in a cargo bay,
And let those improbabilities play !
We’ll pick up the guide on the other side –
Just hope that you’re heading my way !

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        Day 42.

I suppose you think today is special,
Suppose you think today’s the Answer:
“They can’t nail me to a tree,” you’ll say,
“I’ve just done six impossible things today !”
In fact, I spent my forty-second
Drinking with a two-headed chancer.
I risked the local brew – disaster !
It hit me worse that a triple-strength gargle-blaster.
Ah well, beware of the leopard, I guess…
(Though man, I wish I’d a towel for me head !)
Come on, best dust down the dressing gown,
And head off – before the petunias hit the ground.
Let’s leave the pondering to the mice,
Forgetting to fall, and flying instead –
I’ll somehow get you home, my friend,
To the fjords of Mostly Harmless in the end.

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        Day 27.

Ahead a few miles, there lies a town –
Well, more a collection of termite mounds,
Except that the mounds are giant mounds,
And the citizens aren’t quite termites, neither.
But they are well used to strangers here,
You won’t get a second glance –
If they had any eyes to glance with,
Instead of some kind of weird receiver.
Rest the night in the local inn –
You can pay with the knobbly leaves.
If you pick every one you see,
Then you’ll have enough to catch a breather.
Before you leave, check out the town:
This is real Space Who Trek Wars !
The whole place looks so cosmic, dude,
As if designed by Dali with a fever.
Do you have a phone or camera ?
Take lots of photos.  Wish I could, too.
And when you get back, if they ever doubt you,
Or you doubt yourself, they’ll keep you a believer.
Heading on, you’ll come to a river –
There’s a detour to a waterfall.
Well, actually it’s a water-rise,
Caused by a creature a bit like a trout or a beaver,
While almost entirely, but not quite, unlike either.

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        Day 23.

I met a friendly alien today,
Who helped me on my way –
I hope he’s still around
When you come through.
A sort of slug, he was,
A sort of fuzz,
Who made this chirping sound
And grew out of the ground,
All beige and blue.
At least, I’m saying ‘he’,
But in truth she could be ‘she’,
If they even have a gender there at all,
Or maybe three.
They’re all so alien, these aliens,
Not humanoids with silver skin !
I guess that’s why I like the guy:
She make me grin.
I met a friendly alien, it’s true,
When I really needed one !
I hope that he…or she…is there for you,
My girl…old son.

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        Day 11.

So how do you find the language, dude ?
(And by ‘dude’, I don’t mean it to be
An assumption you’re a bloke – not me !
You’re a dude, cos dude, you’re trekking ’cross the galaxy !)
So how do you find the language ?
Easier that you feared, I’ll bet –
I know, it’s just so odd, and yet…
They’ve always got the gist of it, from all I’ve met.
It’s somehow telepathic, I think
Cos some of them all talk with smell,
Yet they sniff us and still can tell.
I guess a thought’s a thought to them, and just as well !
Looks like we’ve found a Babel Fish !
I guess this means that God does not exist –
We’re on our own – let’s make a fist
And try to get back home before we’re missed.

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