Seventeen hundred, Arcturian time,
I set the parameters three planetary diameters,
then stopped on the proverbial dime.
Programming the course off toward the Dark Horse,
I warped out to escape my crime.
I really hadnít meant to make such a dent
in the head of that museum guard,
but with my eye on the prize, a Tulamite of great size,
I hit him way, way too hard.
A jewel thief of space, a disgrace to my race,
I am usually reknown as a pro.
But not in this case, I fled into space,
just ahead of the security fed
who wanted me on death row.
The nebula neared and just as Iíd feared,
a federal cruiser was in hot pursuit.
I slingshot a moon, but did it too soon,
so all my maneuvers were moot.
The plasma gun blast caught me in the ass
and my gryos destabilized bad.
I dropped into pulse drive, shaken but alive
but knowing time was going
my wasted life seemed suddenly sad.