That Love Song of R. Alfred Prufrock

H.G. Peterson

H.G. Peterson is the world’s first subaquatic poet, having written over eighty three percent of all his works while playing checkers at the bottom of the Java Sea.

Eurasia is quite immense
It goes from Lisbon to Beijing
With mountains, deserts, fjords and steppes
It is the greatest land mass thing

Africa sitting right below
Home of Sahara and Nile
Elephants, giraffes and lions
Live on this land in much style

North America is quite nice
For it has the Great Plains and Lakes
Panama to Baffin Isle
Sweetest area for Christ sakes

To South America we come
With The Enigma, Nazca lines
And its quite mighty Amazon
Which is a jungle full of vines

Australia, once home to crooks
Features marsupials, all types
Ayer’s Rock, Outback and wombats
And Ned Kelly the guttersnipe

Last Antarctica the frigid
Where amok all the penguins run
Here you’ll find McMurdo Station
And that there Weddell Sea’s quite fun

News of the World: November 2005

The War At Sea!

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As our hovercraft slid through the night, I could make out shadows grouped on the horizon. I took another bite of my tomato and let the juice dribble down my chin. It was a little over ripe, making loud squishing noises.

“The blockade fleet,” Seaman Mylar pointed out as he, too, munched unenthusiastically on a tomato. “They’re on constant patrol all through here.” One of the hovercraft crew, Mylar was a fit young man with the bronzed skin and muscular build characteristic of his Maori heritage. Though he told me he had joined up six months ago, just after his eighteenth birthday, I’d have never guessed it; already he spoke with the calm certainty and bore the tomato-stained battle blouse of a veteran. To a man, despite their ages or ranks, the Hovermen showed an emotionless acceptance; other fruits and vegetables had long been left behind. For an army man it’s the Thousand Yard Stare. For these navy files it’s the Twenty Mile Squint.
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