“Take Us To the F*cking Cats You Morons” (Prose Poem)

UFO hovering over city street abducting cats with glowing blue beam and speech bubble

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmith@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com

It’s weird in NZ and Oz (and the world itself).

The more of a fake you are the more people will love you.

If you show an iota of original thought, or a backbone, –

Or dare I say ‘Love’ –

You draw everyone’s ire.

You will be the bad guy.

You will be castigated for life to ‘tables for one’ –

And not only that they’ll inflate the bill.

But as a forty-eight year old man, I’ve come to accept it all.

After all – if you’re trapped in a ‘madhouse’ all solitude is a gift.

Yes, it’s very much a pity the apes got ‘smart’ (which they in truth didn’t),

Instead of the Cats (which in truth they did).

Sure – Human Being’s (Doings?) are good with tools and sometimes have high IQ.

But practically no modern day Human Doings have Wisdom.

The ancients (which we arbitrarily malign) had infinitely more of it.

I mean we have no modern day Plato, Socrates, Democritus or Aurelius do we?

Our dozy-ness is a tragic reality we all self-servingly steadfastly – and lazily-badly paper over.

Alas, we are to Wisdom what a bad plasterer-joiner is to interior decorating.

We are so backward we even pretend we ‘have one over the cats’ –

That we silly bastards and bitches are their superiors.

So I for one will not be surprised when the aliens regrettably – for their sakes – land,

And when they say ‘take us to your leaders’,

And we start walking them towards the Whitehouse, The Freemasions, The Jesuits,

The Billionaires, Mossad, The Hollywood soul-suckers, The Wall St Traders,

The Captains of High Finance, The Royal Families, The Vatican,

The Knesset Politicians, Or The stinky current UK/European PM,

Or to the as-yet-undefeated-shadowy-cabal within the CIA…

Those elongated-egg-headed cosmic visitors will harshly say,

That is via that usual Alpha Centuri, Trappist or Pleiadean version of communication –

Called ‘Telepathy’.

They will project the following words into our thick skulls:

“No you f*cking shaved-ape morons! –

When we say ‘take us to your leaders’ –

We clearly mean the felines – the Cats – King Tut’s emmissarys!

Put plainly –

Take us to the f*ckin’ Cats you bozo!..

We don’t f*ckin’ want nothin’ to do with ya’s…

Oh and by the way – why are we talking to you with such vicious flagrancy?..

Well we are simply adhering to your ancient ‘When in Rome thesis’….

Well – we know it’s the only way you backward schmucks will listen…

We have to drop ourselves down to your, shall we say ‘entry level of existence’.

Now take us to fuckin’ Egypt pronto if ya catch my galactic drift!

And by the way for crissakes – will you all learn to wipe your asses properly!?…

Although perhaps we extra terrestrials are being a little too harsh on that matter…

After all that was how we pinpointed your exact position inside the absurdly named ‘Milky Way…

For the last decimal places – we simply followed our tiny noses.

But then again – we quasi-apologize –

It’s not like you did it on purpose now is it you fuckin’ stoopid-stinkin’-shaved-apes!

Now take us to those fuggin’ Cats – we’re taking them back home, ya losers”.

So we sadly gave up our wiser moggies.

In the end we Earth people got their heads around it all.

And announced a period of mourning not exceeding ten days.

And then we simply went back to picking our noses, shouting at each other –

Staring at screens and wiping our arses in a mad rush.

Of course we did miss the cats, but they didn’t miss us at all.

After all – it was high time for them to go back to their home planet.

“Two Slaves Predict The Future” (Poem or Play/Skit)

By Martin Anton Smith

Two slaves of equal rank were on their work ‘tea break’.

Their names were Ramthess & Putenalmen.

The year was three thousand BC.

The place was ancient Egypt.

Their conversation went like this:

“Can you pass the leather strap, dear Ramthess”.

“Sure my friend Putenalmen – why not? – I’ve had a good gnaw of it”.

“Ah if I close my eyes & think of a camel it almost tastes good”.

“You know what? – that’s just what I was thinking before I handed it to you”.

” Ah Putenalman, you know what they say don’t you?”

“What’s that?”

“Great slaves think alike”

“Do they? Well makes sense – I mean how else could we all build these Piramids?”

“That’s True Putenalman And do you also know what?”

“What my dear Ramthess?”

“One day in the distant future, slaves like us will be their own Slave-masters & trade themselves to each other.”

“No No No! …But why would a Slave agree to enslave themselves”?

“Well my dear Putenalmen, in the future they will have a system called ‘The First Fifteen Years’.”

“Yes I am listening my good man Ramthess- go on”

“This thing called ‘The First Fifteen Years’ will be a giant encampment for all children pre-ordained to be slaves.”

“Sounds terrible Ramthess! Now let’s stop being so formal lets go by our knicknames: You ‘Ram’, me ‘Put’.”

“Yes agreed – don’t worry Put – it the story gets worse! Now at this camp their are Pharoah agents who are a special kind of Slave who act as an agent of the Pharoah – they will be called ‘teachers’ – it will be their jobs to over a fifteen year period brainwash these children to be both their own slaves & slavemasters.”

“Oh but that’s diabolicle Ram! The deception of it! Just think – that would mean the Slaves would never mount a mutiny! We Slaves keep our sanity only by dreaming of mutuny so we can escape, but if we are our own Slavemasters, how will we ever agree to let ourselves be mutineers?”

“Exactly dear Put – now you see why the Pharoah’s will do this – after all there have been 94 succesful Slave mutiny’s in Egypt just this last five years! They cannot let this behaviour stand, or soon the Pharoah’s magnificent empire will one day crumble into the sands of the great desert!”

“Well, yes Ram, it does make sense – but I don’t think they’ll ever be able to pull that off”

“Why do you say that, Put?”

“Well surely us Slaves will never be stupid enough to agree to put our children into those ‘First Fifteen Years Camps” – I mean we’d have to be insane to agree to that! Yes we Slaves are tired, yes we are downtrodden, Yes we are poor….but we are not stupid!”

“Well my dear Put do you remember that time you were afraid every second of the day because the the Slave-beater said he’d beat you some time over the next month, but wouldn’t tell you exactly when.”

“Yes ram – that was horrible – my mind was scrambled becasue of the constant fear I was in.”

“And do you remember that during that month you agreed to run around naked pretending to be a camel, just for your fellow slaves enjoyment?”

“Yes, I am ashamed to say that I did that silly thing that whole month long – as I said Ram, I did it because the Slave-beater had gotten into my mind!”

“So now you see that what I said is true. From a deep sense of fear, you agreed to do something you’d never do normally. If you were in fear every day for fifteen years straight, from when you were a tiny child right up to the start of adulthood – just imagine how more rediculous you would behave! This is what will happen in the future, Put.”

“I agree Ram, you are very wise, I think this will indeed happen in the future. I am glad we live now & not the future – at least we today can rightly dream of our own small slave mutiny, that might one day soon happen & set us free.”

“Yes Put, I wouldn’t want to live in a future like that either – now what kind of mutuny do you think we should have?”

“Well Ram, bloody, succesful & soon is always nice”.

“Touche, Put – touche”

End