Image by NatureFriend from Pixabay
This chair isn't made of wood or anything. It's made from some kind of highly advanced extraterrestrial material and designed for the most evolved comfort.
An FBI agent named Scully
Followed a trail down into a gully
She found a UFO seat
Its comfort couldn't be beat
So she sat and stared into space dully.
Why the hell did you write this, Owl?
Well, obnoxious asker of questions, my audience was clamoring for a follow-up to my ultra-popular, smash hit poem, Gross Encounters of the Worst Kind.
Okay, one reader casually mentioned that since Mulder got his own poem, it might be nice if Scully had a poem too. So I racked my brain until I shook out a word that rhymed with Scully and came up with the above. No need for applause. Buying a book is thanks enough!
~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~
Free use image by Jim Cooper on Pixabay
Ah, UFO Jockey! Back for more poetic injustice, I see!
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