The Space Raven
Stranded Astronauts Report ‘Odd Rapping, Tapping Noises at Spacecraft Door!
News Item: Stranded Astronauts Report Hearing Peculiar Noises:
The Space Raven Not By Edgar Allan Poe Once upon a midnight dreary, while they pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious defect of engineering lore— While Butch and Suni were lightly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at their spacecraft's entry door. “Is this some visitor,” Suni muttered, “tapping at our spacecraft's door?" "'Tis just the wind," said Boeing, "nothing more." "There is no wind here," answered Butch, "Nor weather be it foul or fair, We planned to drop in just for lunch, And now we're stuck up here eight months!! It's really kind of cramped up here, The foul and dirty stinky air, cramped and smelly, stagnant air, Smells like a week old gym sock pair! Can you have the Russian Soyuz Bring us all clean underwear? And now this constant rapping, tapping! It drives me nuts," Butch said while pacing up and down the floor, up and down the floor. "It drives me nuts! This constant rapping, rapping, rapping at our door!" "Perhaps," said Houston Space Control, "’tis, perhaps, some visitor entreating entrance at your capsule door— Some late visitor entreating entrance at your space ship door;— Could it be Uber Eats delivering pizza to your door? That it must be, and nothing more." Presently their souls grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, They spoke to what or who was rapping at their door. “Sir,” said Suni, “or It or Madam, truly your forgiveness we implore; But the fact is we were napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at Starliner's door, That we scarce were sure we heard you”—here she threw open the door... ... Darkness there and nothing more! Deep into that darkness peering, long they stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before: Are we stuck here evermore? But the silence was unbroken, and Boeing engineers had not spoken, And the only words there spoken were Butch and Suni's whispered words, “Can we get home?” This they whispered, and the voice of NASA murmured back the words, “no more”— Merely this and nothing more. Back into the capsule turning, curiosity within them burning, Butch and Suni heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” Butch said soft to Suni, “surely that is something at our window lattice;" They opened then a window shutter, when, with many a flit and flutter, In there stepped a stately Ox, a Musky Ox, an Elon Musk of Space-X yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lordly order, perched above Starliner's door— Perched upon a bust of Boeing just above their chamber door— Perched, and smiled, and said nothing more. Then this Space-X ox beguiled their sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance he wore. They asked him: are there roads or airports someplace near, A Russian space ship close, a taxi stand, where Butch and Suni Could catch or thumb a ride Right out of here? Quoth the Musk Ox “Nevermore.” Much they marveled this ungainly ox to hear discourse so plainly, Though his answer little meaning—little relevancy bore; But they could not help agreeing that no astronautical being Ever yet was blessed with seeing Elon at their door— Who with these words said “Leave with me next year; or leave without me nevermore.” And then as quickly as he came, Elon left and gently closed the door. ` Then Chuck and Suni called up NASA, called their friends at Boeing and NASA, For their future to implore. "Will we know Christmas on the Earth? Might we be home January 1st? Will we get to take a shower before the start of April Showers? Will Spring training come and go; will the summer long be o'er, Before we ever leave this stinky station, this stinky station, floating in space, eating C-rations? Are there non-Musk options to explore, Space to explore? Will Starliner fly up once more? Will Boeing launch it evermore? Can Boeing reach the ISS, the cramped and crowded ISS; Can Boeing fly there evermore without an engineering mess? Will Starliner regain its luster, and fly again, and fly again, Without those bleeping gremlin clusters, Without leaking gas or flakey thrusters? Tell us, Boeing, we implore!" Quoth NASA's mavens: "Nevermore."
The Raven and Other Poems was first published by Edgar Allan Poe in 1845, Wiley and Putnam, publisher.
Perfect!