Something landed in my kitchen
With a loud and smashy crash
A metallic egg, all bleeps and hisses
In a cloud of cosmic ash.
I munched my munchy crunchy toast
While the room turned white and cold
When the steely egg gave birth somehow
And its shell began to fold.
There came amidst the choky smoke
A cough just like my own
And a space-age version of myself
Stood in my very home.
He was a lonely clone of me
Though his skin was pleasant blue
Until he fiddled with some wristy watch
And turned a peachy hue.
He explained he was a Future Boy
And had surfed the waves of time
In his Hypometric Chronocraft
To trace his family line.
The milky smoke had filled the room
And though I strained to see
I muttered those immortal words
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
So we sat and slurped our drinky drinks
Sprayed the pod with anti-freeze
Then he spoke about his future-world
And their cure for all disease.
We talked and laughed and slurped and munched
Though he was a troubled soul
He cried for all the long-gone trees
And how we burned the coaly coal.
He yearned to set the present right
And how I longed for something new
So I climbed into that poddy pod
In my skin of pleasant blue.