End Of The Line
What if this bus were to enter a worm hole
somewhere near the campus physics lab
en-route to the downtown branch of the library?
What sort of planet will we land on?
Will we be able to find our way back?
If not, we’ll have to start a new human colony.
Does the driver automatically get to be leader?
We’ll soon find out if Lord Of The Flies was inevitable.
For the short-term we need to inventory the food on board.
Granola bars, candy, Gatorade, a couple of apples.
Not much to divide among twenty-two people.
I hope the plants here are eatable.
Who’ll be the first to try?
And, if the plant life here is intelligent,
do we eat it anyway?
It’s important to understand, if there’s no food supply,
the Donner Party’s biggest mistake was in waiting too long.
You have to eat your fellow travelers
while the flesh still includes some fat.
If we survive long enough to start our colony
breeding will be of paramount importance.
We’re in good shape there
with thirteen women and eight men,
a ratio of one-point-six-two-five to one.
But all these thoughts are irrelevant now.
The electronic message board is flashing:
End Of The Line.
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This is what you would call a subtle scipoem, due to its apparent lack of scientific references. However, must something...
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