More poetry

While riding on a bus, last June,
A man claimed he was from the moon,
A smart dressed man, with hat and cloak.
At first I thought it was a joke!
And sure, this bold statement was,
in all clearness, ridiculous!
And so, belief was hard to muster.
Shit! He was the bus conductor.

"What the fuck?!" I asked him clearly,
"Surely you don't mean? Sincerely?"
"To yourself, in all your splendour,
gracious as you are, I tender
questions to you, so you see,
to ascertain validity
of your bold statement, let me know.
You say you're from the moon? How so?!"

"I fell from satellite", he'd tell,
"And naked through the sky I fell,
past cloud and bird and lightning rod
until my limber frame hit sod.
I pulled myself up, gained composure,
brushed off mud and seeked enclosure
for it was a breezy night,
so cold, my chest was feeling tight."

"This grand station, i did approach.
'Twas full of taxi, bus and coach!
I ventured in, for it was warm,
and stumbled on this uniform
just laying there, all unattended.
and I thought 'well, this looks splendid!'
'I shall dress myself. My aim?
To warmify my chilly frame!'"

"What happened next?" I asked the guy,
while looking him straight in the eye.
"I got this job with some persuasion.
Well, I dressed for the occasion!"
"Oh!" I said with best intention,
"And what of this moon you mention?"
"Oh, please don't be so aloof!"
the man responded. "Here's the proof!"

With baited breath, I waited, waited
"In my pocket here!" he stated
In he reached, with stubby hand.
He fumbled for a while, and
eventually his arm raised up
and in his palm, he'd gently cup
a stone. "Look! IT IS MY MOON ROCK!"
and I replied, "You fucking cock."