In the tawdry port-side tavern
\nether lights were burning down,
\nweary patrons dozed amidst their empty mugs,
\nsuch a dim and murky cavern
\nthat the owner barely frowned
\nas a barmaid swept the space dust \u2019neath the rugs.<\/p>\n
But, just then the silence wavered
\nas the force doors opened wide
\nwith the sound of ungreased servos squeaking shrill\u2014
\nin a stench cloud monkey-flavored
\ntwo-gunned trouble came inside,
\nwhooping, \u201cHey there, folks, they call me Stagg\u2019rin\u2019 Bill!\u201d<\/p>\n
He was dressed in aging armor
\nmarked with ray gun burns and tar,
\nand a day old growth of stubble framed his face.
\nLurching like a seasick farmer
\nhe slapped money on the bar,
\nsaying, \u201cmister, give me coffee, black as space.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a short time he stood drinking,
\nwreathed in caffeine-scented steam,
\nthen he turned to face the people in the room
\nas though he could hear them thinking,
\nor at least could guess the theme,
\nand his smile shone through the hazy tavern gloom.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow then, folks, I know you\u2019re wond\u2019rin,
\nwhat the saturn cat dragged in,
\nwho I am, and why I\u2019m here, and what\u2019s my tale,
\nwell, I\u2019ve done my share of blund\u2019rin,
\nsometimes scarcely saved my skin,
\nbut I\u2019ve worked these spaceways decades without fail.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve pressed past the edge of star charts,
\nwith my loyal monkey hordes
\nseen some places no one else has ever seen,
\nI\u2019ve brought down the reigns of upstarts,
\nrescued princesses and lords,
\neven won the heart and honor of a queen.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve fought battles without number,
\nI\u2019ve run races through the stars,
\nusing gadgets filched from peoples eons dead,
\nI\u2019ve known worlds that never slumber,
\nshut down far too many bars,
\npainted far too many space-port cities red.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut these days the ships are changing,
\nfilled with diplomatic bunk…s,
\nand technology is just for engineers,
\nbattles now are more far-ranging,
\nfought by politics, not hunks,
\nand the future\u2019s somehow less of hopes than fears.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor myself, I love the old days,
\nray guns, aliens galore,
\npure adventure like a weapon to my hand,
\nso I try to keep the old ways,
\nbring past futures to the fore,
\ntravel outwards, find my ground and make my stand.\u201d<\/p>\n
Old Bill paused in quiet sipping,
\nnodded round at all about,
\nthen he thrust his now cold coffee at the host,
\nand, his smile still left unslipping,
\ngrabbed his change and wandered out,
\nleaving patrons wondering if they\u2019d seen a ghost.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"