The Beverley Westwood UFO Adventure Club

Met Friday night by the cattle grid

Wrapped in thermals and charity shop raincoats

Hip flasks full of whatever we could steal from our parents

We’d shiver and tremble as our breath exploded before us

Cold nights full of hope and high tales

Lying on our backs (avoiding the freshly lain pats)

Staring up at the milky Jackson Pollock stars

Praying for abduction

To be swept away by aliens

The probing a necessary side effect

Of adventure and escape

Our badges were bruises and scars

Our entrance fee was fear

We longed to be taken

Taken to the stars

Taken by the light

We'd drink the harsh liquor

And scream into the night

‘Take me away from this

I won’t last much longer

Oh please exist

Please let there be hope’

We’d dream and die all in the space of an hour

 

The Beverley Westwood UFO Adventure Club

Only had one member

And he is still waiting.