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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Sci-fi · #1894304
James T. Kirk meets Hans Solo at the Millennium Bar.
In a galaxy past Betelgeuse in a bar on planet Five,
Captain James T. Kirk met Hans Solo but their egos would not jive.
They said hello and shook hands all right but then like a doomsday maw,
they both sought Five bar dominance as Five-lings stared in awe.

At first it was simple posturing like cocks among the hens,
coming on in warp five overtures, fantasizing they were tens.
When they heard, “O Captain, my Captain!” each captain stood in glee;
but it was short-lived when they saw a Five-ling reading poetry.

  (Both captains in their respective ships brought Five supplies and books;
  Five in return supplied gourmet food, being famous for its cooks.
  Among the books were technical journals--Scotty had his say;
  Uhura insisted on Leaves of Grass, as a Whitman devotee.)

Millennium Bar was jumping the night the captains disagreed;
“I’m the captain!” “No, I’m the captain!” Neither would concede.
And all the roundish bar patrons indulged in drink and snack;
the disharmony of Solo and Kirk pulled all the Five eyes back.

The Five patrons heard rising voice, they saw the puffed up chest;
some looked to see if they wore holsters like in the wild west.
When the captains began arm wrestling right there on the bar,
most Five-lings in the joint just thought Star Wars had gone too far.

  (All the stars that shone on planet Five were shining bright that night;
  inside the bar the captains vied just short of a fist fight.
  Outside the bar--in back--was a field of falcons living proud;
  they were the famous Falcons of Five, that night shrieking extra loud.)

Inside the Five-ling who read Whitman moseyed to intervene;
and he convinced both James and Hans to temper down the mean.
He parted purple puffy lips and said, “There’s a dart board over there.”
So both captains made a beeline for the game all Five-lings share.

Alas the quarreling continued and each verbal dart had kick;
I want answers!” Kirk demanded, “Don’t get cocky!” Hans was quick.
An enterprising young Millennium bar patron left his stool,
and got James Kirk and Hans Solo to forego darts and play some pool.

They might as well have tried to capture photons in a stein;
the argumentative captains were never to align.
Pool cues down, they “took it outside” by using the back door;
they disappeared in Falcon Field, where no one else had gone before.

Lines 36








 
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