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Encounters
- by
Ted Slade
Such flights on the wild side
would've delighted old Sigmund -
tales of abduction,
of unwanted probes
in unmentionable orifices
by fragile grey creatures
with almond-shaped eyes
and squid-shaped limbs.
Sexier by far
than those boring old dreams
of running through glue,
of snakes up the arse,
rats gnawing at your balls.
Or memories of daddy
in flagrante
with the teddy bear.
At least now we know
our place in the Universe -
fag-end of a fag-end of a galaxy,
suitable case for study,
endangered species perhaps,
or a new source of protein
for the lap-dogs
of lesser gods.
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