Well, damn. I misread the deadline for the Fallout Poem.

  (Edited: )

Announcement didn't show up in my FB stream until today, and I read it as 6pm Thursday.

So, given that I've spent the last five hours writing, I'm not going to let you all get away with not reading it. I can only apologise in advance.

 

 

 

 

 

The Wandering Eye

 

I’ve a story to tell, if you’ve ears left to hear,

About love in this radioactive frontier.

How before you were born, I went into the ground,

An experience fearful, sublime and profound

And while frozen and stiff in that underground booth

There congealed in my brain a remarkable truth:

That though most, in the absence of peers, remain chaste

Twenty decades on ice rather broadens your taste.

 

 

For..

while..

some may well consider that a Mantis has too fickle

An approach to copulation for a spot of slap-and-tickle,

She is fiery and capricious,not inherently malicious

And presents but little danger to one adequately armed

(For those int’rested: a roll of sturdy double-sided tape

Tightly wrapped around the mandibles facilitates escape

When a Mantis I would savour it’s the strategy I favour

And in none of my romantic assignations was I harmed)

 

And the mole-rat for example, living proof that love is blind,

Offers more than merely sustenance for one who’s so inclined

While in packs they can be scary on their own they’re cute, if hairy

(Though it’s vital to ensure that you have got them from behind)

 

Beyond superficial flaws a ghoul has much to recommend her

She is flexible and supple and in places very tender

(And I find her innate slowness is an extra added bonus, 

While the background radiation keeps her comfortably warm)

If you meet a likely candidate and truly mean to have her,

Simply spritz yourself unstintingly with Eau de Fresh Cadaver

Though it’s true she can be vicious if she thinks you’d be delicious

With the ideal choice of fragrance, watch her attitude transform!

 

 

With the proper equipment this desolate land

Offers welcome relief for my dominant hand.

There’s boom bugs to bang and a Brahmin to woo

This menagerie is my ménage à tous!

There are Scorpionoidea, Centaur and vermin,

All manner of creatures await to put sperm in!

My story is done, and I bid you farewell.

There is no more to hear; there is no more to tell.