Spring 2001.

He Wasn't Always Such a Reluctant Astronaut

by Don Levy

Beam me up, baby
To your rocket ship
And then we can take off.
First, we'll have a little
Foreplay in the G-forces
As you feel around my G-string.
In outer space
Nobody can hear you hump,
Great weightless sex,
Your body buzzing over mine
As I grab onto your
Navigational instrument
For dear life,
Outside I can see shooting stars
Burn brightly as we do
And boy, what a rocket
You have in your pocket.

I will be glad to be your Moon Maid
And we'll be so happy together
In a space colony for two.
You'll go out each morning to collect rocks
And perform your science experiments
And when you come home I'll bitch at you
For tracking moon dust all over the floors
that I just mopped after slaving over
a hot microwave for minutes.
Later though, we'll make up and make out
as we ascend the control tower together.
You'll then come to me, my space monkey
and I'll show you I have enough tang
for the both of us and I don't mean
that powdery crap you like to drink.
We'll assume the space missionary position
as we go at it, full throttle, floating over
our furniture from the Ethan Allen Moon Colony Collection,
our bodies tangled up in blue as
satelites of love soar over head.
Then suddenly we achieve
intergalatic orgasam after
intergalatic orgasam,
all leading to the Big Bang,
time standing still as we pass through
a black hole of our own.
Later, all spent, we fall into
our own Sea of Tranquility
and you can get your moon rocks off
anytime you like!

DON LEVY is not an employee of NASA. Yet.