To boldly go

Int: Bridge of Spaceship. CAPT GRANT, a human, is speaking to NARNON, a blue hairy alien type; use your imagination. They are both sitting.

CAPT: So, what makes you feel you'd be right as a pilot?

NARNON: I'm a splendid communicator Captain Grant. I'm conversant in 400 languages including text speak and illiterate facebook chav.

CAPT: Oh, really? I could never get my head around it at the academy.

NARNON: It's not that complicated really. You just swap i's for y's and end every sentence with 'innit blud' and you're halfway there.

CAPT: It says here that you were almost part of the Technotronic Galaxial Royal Family.

NARNON: Yes. I was due to marry Princess Mardiothon but I just couldn't go through with it.

CAPT: Why ever not man?! Think of the money, the power, the pan, the van, the Boursin. Besides, I heard technotrons can do strange and wonderful things with their third inmurpredates.

NARNON: (beat) There will be things I'll miss about her but it would never have worked. The whole family support Accrington Stanley.

CAPT: Accrington Stanley? Who are they?

NARNON: A shit football team from the Northwest of England....originally. But now, they are part of the Neo-scouse Religious Soccer league. Games last days. Cars are ceremonially left on bricks and it's frowned upon if you don't chant (in scouse accent) 'Exactly' over and over again. I just couldn't do it anymore.

CAPT: So how did you get out of it then?

NARNON: Oh, I just whistled the tune to Please Release Me until she asked what I was singing. Then I sang her chorus while giving her the finger. I still have bruises on my dwarfinin.

CAPT: So, do you want the job.

NARNON: Don't you need to see any credentials. You've not asked if I can fly the thing yet.

CAPT: Fly? This is Transport for Pluto, Pal. We're on strike till next year. You'll have plenty of time to learn. Welcome aboard comrade.

CEG 1995

We arrived at the rock,
A sandstone lip overlooking the town.
Passing round the dying first smoke
We tethered the dog and sat us down.
Torchbulb eyes awe embraced,
The pious view was all our own

Roaches burned out fingers.
Summer's day died and dark
Closed in on my friend
With keystroke in soft sandstone,
He rinted his name to forever,
Etching out his mark.

Three times the leaves have fell since that day,
Twice since CEG himself.
Those words printed for his future
Already invisible.
I searched and searched in funeral grey.
Ended sat alone on stone and stoned alone.

[Old poem originally written in 1997. RIP Colin]