I’ve got some candy in my time machine:
An off brand-treat,
definitely not creepy.
It’s not from Hershey,
that group of phonies and slave drivers
who hide aliens in Willy Wonka land,
Or Nestlé, that brand who covers up
transgressions by pretending to be French;
what I offer is far sweeter
than any Reese’s or fried Oreo.
I know, the ship
looks like a low-budget,
smoke and mirrors UFO,
police-box blue and hardly fit for human consumption,
but bear with me, we’re working on repairs
for the coming season.
It’s more than meets the eye;
puts all of spacetime at my fingertips.
With just the flick of the wrist
and some clumsy switches picked up
at the Home Depot,
it’s bigger on the inside from
some post-production magic.
Most would run away in fear;
That little voice ringing in their ears
that they shouldn’t talk to strangers.
What wonderful nonsense that they’re afraid of space;
we’re already on a flying saucer
hurtling through the Milky Way at 30 km/second.