Here you go, Doc:
for doc linkin
The last alien arrived in a bolt of lightning
Needing an apartment – not too big, my studio
Would do: after all, this is a costly continent
And synthesizing money might prove painful.
How’d we meet? I only recall being soothed
By his presence the way rice is by stew-meat
Cooked slow with veggies (cook stew-meat
Too fast & like knives that once cut lightning
Your teeth go hot & dull, for no one’s soothed
When unremembered entertainment weird studio
Henchmen - probably Venusian - imagine painful
As they wend across the unknown continent
Their orders mention (“in a new continent
Decked out & immaculate, seek stew-meat
& relax”) turns out not to be so painful
After all. Just as thunder isn’t lightning
Being bored isn’t being soothed, & studio
Heads ought to recall [while being soothed
By fears they thought never to be soothed
By] that), for, guess what, this is our continent
Where we cook what we can & our studio
Cans what we can’t – including stew-meat.
Once the moment sizzled away (lightning
Too fades into memory) it wasn’t painful
To shake the alien's hand, though “not painful”
May only mean my state’d been soothed
By pleasant stars surrounding the lightning
That touch the livid schematic of our continent
Turning all who breathe into alien stew-meat.
Still, is it all that simple? Really? Inside my studio
I hurdle pleasures that outside my studio
Some people – maybe you – find painful.
We’re all different. Vegans need no stew-meat.
Hmmm, alien vegans? Oh yes I am soothed
(Were I any more relaxed I’d be incontinent)
When, minute at first, remote as lightning
Strange notions in my studio are soothed
By the painful alien whose visit to our continent
Cooks the stew-meat of my mind in lightning.
Remember -- if you don't like the post above: blame Doc not me.