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On the far-flung planet Alzene,
In the Trillox galaxy,
There dwelt a dazzling beauty
By the name of Astra-Zee.
Her epidermis—ecru
And her eye was aubergine,
Her hands were double-jointed
And she played the tambourine.
Through-out the past four light-years
She'd been pen-pals with a lad
Hailing from the gamma quadrant,
From the planet Capricad.
A consummate musician
Who could play the stringed sitar,
The gastropod named Wilbur
Was a cosmic superstar.
Wilbur sought to offer marriage
To his pen-pal, Astra-Zee,
So to make this thing transpire
He composed a marriage plea.
He utilized a space-o-gram,
His snail foot gripped the chalk
And from his heart his message gushed
To sway her to wedlock.
"Oh, my beloved Astra-Zee,
I miss your ecru skin
And your lovely eye of aubergine
Above your triple chin.
I'm writing you this letter
To request you be my wife.
This offer flows straight from my heart,
Please share my mollusk life."
"I, Wilbur, pledge thee, Astra-Zee,
My shell will be our home,
With tambourine and sitar,
Through the universe we'll roam."
And as he wrote he cleaned the page
Of slime and other smears.
The heart within the gastropod
Beat fast between his ears.
To validate his offer,
Wilbur threw in cosmic bling—
Placed carefully in the envelope
Was one of Saturn's rings.
A self-pat on his shell-back for
Remembering that detail,
He dropped the lumpy envelope
In the slot marked "Cosmic Mail."
The lumpy letter destined to
Receive a routing code,
But the ring inside jammed the machine,
'Bout made the thing explode.
Then a letter with a routing code
Was dispatched from the station—
Express to Trillox Galaxy,
Then to its destination.
The space-mail ship, upon its way,
Naught could impede or slow,
Inscribed upon the rocket-ship—
The deep-space mail motto—
"Neither asteroids, nor shooting stars,
Nor black hole residue,
Will stay this courier from its task—
The space-mail must go through!"
Now nowhere in this universe
Can there be heard the song
Of the tambourine and sitar! —
That thought is just so wrong!
Take courage all you people,
Keep your chins up, bear your cross,
For the routing codes were bungled
And now we suffer loss.
Her letter with the mixed-up code
Was sent to a crustacean
On the distant planet Aesop
In the Cygnus constellation.
And the letter that she opened
Caused her eye to gleam in mirth,
'Twas a Notice of Eviction
Addressed: "Roswell — Planet Earth."
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