NB This is a transcription from a poetry slam
I’d just like to take a moment
to say a big ‘BIG’ thank you
to the tiny ‘little’ people,
who have been working behind the scenes here tonight…
the tiny little ‘green’ people.
“Thank you!”
And, in their own language:
‘Beep, threeeg, wdsnonik, grurrrrr!’
(as you can probably tell, it is a thoughtful and a beautifully poetic language) perhaps a poem from one of the “guys” later… perhaps.
But, first, a poem about their journey to this planet, which I am sure they would wish me to relate.
‘This is: The Tale of the Little Green People and their Journey from Mars to Cornwall.
The little green people
were travelling from Mars
they were coming in spaceships,
cadging lifts in cars
(no, that’s just silly).
Their destination: Earth!
Obviously.
Seeking Mirth.
Because they were coming from a cold, laugh-less planet,
that they do ‘not’
fondly call ‘Mother Janet’.
Their landing point,
in Cornwall, Brown Willy –
which was recently voted the number one
silliest, hilliest placename
in a recent poll…
upon Mars,
for the seventh Martian Solar year running.
And then they plan to seek out…
The Eden Project,
(to see if it’s a threat)
Goonhilly Downs
(for obvious reasons)
and Miss Marples Tea Room in Looe
where they are going to have serious words
about a certain missing apostrophe.
(Time passes)
The little green people have integrated well,
and nobody can tell
that they are not from round here;
as they have picked up the lingo,
refused to play bingo,
and are as ‘Ansum’ as the day it is long.
They work hard,
pay their dues,
have learned to love queues,
and can sing ‘Trelawny’ at Will;
but, what will give them away,
is the colour of their skin,
translucent and thin,
and shiny, wet, greenish and gray…
… although their three-fingered hands are probably a clue;
but, not quite a clincher, wouldn’t you say.
Graeme Sandford 