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Writer's pictureRussell Jacklin

Star date 22995.3



The fluorescent screen in our lounge,

Mirrored the starship’s onboard viewer

glimpsing unfamiliar, fictitious worlds

and new civilisations.

Going boldly where TV had not gone before.

We encountered both friendly and unfriendly aliens,

Pointed ears, blue faces, or lizard-like Gorns

Occasionally, it was all just too much

After all, I was only nine

It wasn’t Dr Who scary, but it was close

They whisked us weekly across the cosmos

“Warp speed Mr Scott”

These intrepid explorers

aboard Enterprise NCC 1701

became our friends and our encouragement

to reach out to our stars

“Signal Starfleet Lt. Uhura”


I felt sorry for those dressed in red security shirts

We all knew that they would soon die horridly

Superfluous to this landing party.

Step forward our conquering hero

Confidently commanding the tense situations

Like a counterfeit Alexander the Great.

He was always in complete control

Dominating both time and space,

Young women looked upon him sensually

he returned their look with a charming grin

Stouter men, out of respect, parted the way

Yet he was so focused, he never even noticed them

Tribbles, however, simply adored him



Intelligence ran second best to the physical

The cerebral bowed low to the biceps and toned abs.

Spock versus Kirk

Brains versus brawn

Human versus Vulcan,

their man-love restrained and unbetrothed

Two men with more differences than similarities

Yet ready to put those differences aside

Where the needs of the many

outweighed the needs of the few

Or the one


In later episodes, the aliens were better costumed

Often more prolific, often more horrific

Still those fragile, lost, and abandoned girls

longed for this federation champion

There was a need for more intelligent scripts

The weary captain couldn’t fight every alien

The crew must devise logical plans to outwit adversaries

If they were to live long and prosper,

There was only so much posturing

our ageing hero could continue.

The toned abs of our captain Kirk, now held tight

by close-fitting elasticised corsets.

Empathetically supplied by Dr McCoy

J.T. required other support

His hair flapped, unattached,

Uncontrolled, ungoverned, unglued

But he was still our favourite captain

Racing across federation space

To complete his and their vital mission

In the allotted fifty minutes.

“Impulse power Mr Sulu.”

“Phaser banks ready, Mr Chekov.”



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