Songs of the Reed

Spacebound Job-Seeker

Coming from a distant starry sphere

Down dazzling to our humble Here

A celestial envoy

To seek employ

Crowned with a tin-foil hat

(Or tin-foil helm, at that)

At the local superstore

Curious of humanoid lore

Bob and CEO Jim

Greeted and met with him

Shook his hand, but he did reply:

"Wear these helms, I shall tell why,

I am Phlan'g of Planet Phlop, my nation,

seeking a most menial humanoid vocation.

When I broadcast my mental CV

Via my cosmic cerebral telepathy

Ye shall not suffer your minds exploding

When your cranial computer starts downloading"

CEO Jim and his pal Bob

Did quite figuratively drop the gob

At this oddball wanting an average job

Not sure whether to snicker or sob

They respectfully told him with due haste

That working here, for his starry kind would be a waste

That "We will be contacting you on a later time."

Phlan'g from Planet Phlop, starman wanting a dime

Decorously bowed and shook their hands once more

Still, one more thing had their guest in store.

Thus he old them in advance:

"Please close yours optics, catch not my glance,

In your aural receptors place your fingers twain

I shall be swiftly gone via space-time warp again

Teleportation to call it for short"

(Indeed, these were words of grave import

For minds could melt

Or pure astral energy felt)

Thus in dire disbelief

(They just wanted it to be over, to get some relief)

Robert and James, two of a humanoid

Believing whether who was paranoid

The far-fetched fellow or their esteemed mind

Then as he said, he bade farewell to mankind

And off he zipped via marvellous space-magic

(Or rather science, for our feeble brain is too tragic)

To his space-saucer parked just in the lot

Off he went starwards, him they not forgot

Or rather they wanted to, they still refused to believe

That the wayward Phlan'g had just taken his leave