Pchelka's Starry Journey

But F., that man is the worst nuisance on the beach.

Mother, woken from her nap,
hears a piercing scream and thunders,
"Why'd you hit your baby brother, when he so looks up to you!
Don't you remember days past,
when you wanted to buy a fortress
but your daddy couldn't afford it,
so you brought him into your room?

You stowed away beneath your captain bed.
We didn't hear a peep throughout the entire weekend!"

Poor Sam Peabody!

Oh brother, when all you know is bleat,
they'll catch you by your cape and beat you,
threatening never to release you till you learn to kick it back.
Feigning sick, I chanced to read
these words in a comic to me speaking:
"Are you tired of being the weakling?"...
I clipped and mailed the ad.

Soon send away offers were piling up high,
and then one day one came and made me cry and cry.
Red pouches unspent for years, at once counted and sent,
while all the weeks I waited, weighing those words in bold text:

"Are you a Beyonder sent down to be Earth-fostered;
do you often feel like a wanderer lost?"
But waiting for Goddard, our two impatient paupers,
Gogo and his Didi, sauntered off...
Till in hunger they were led into Huntsville and fed,
dragged to sled by hunter's belt and launched!

"Far from home and shaped like common men,
Beyonders bleed the most, their roots unknown to them.
We've received your fee, and per the tests,
you are indeed a seed from that nebular nest.
Is this too much at once? We're trusting mum's to be the word.

Beyonders pine for a love no mortals give,
one they'll find only once we build the mothership.
Your monthly tithe shall fund good tidings soon to come.
But till then, here's how you're to live..."

So thus we learned to act the dunce
as spies among the carnal fallen,
twin friars cast here in pollens from a star's placenta sac.
Braced for an earth stay unloved,
twits daily murdered for their virtue.
Mirthful, the merciless would hurt you,
as omerta turned their backs.

Stung by venomous vipers, our muted youths lapsed;
we knew the shortest cyphers are the toughest ones to crack.
But every hero has a heel, we'd realise, blind before the squad.
The only spies who get to feel love first unearth their own plots!

Mushing onward, Mushka's dragged by collar
to his slaughter under undying dawn.
Choked, he's soon a goner, no one heard his hollers;
this pack honours only the idiot's rod.
Next cabins come equipped with pentobarbitone syringe,
nothing too rich for glorious cosmonauts!

I'm sorry I bailed, Xiao Xiang, mush on...
I couldn't ditch my wails, I needed the pod.
"Kids say you're hopped on drugs, son.
With Mum we'll need a word."
Mushka, per their bargain, I can't ever return.

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