I saw a flying saucer hovering low in the clouds this morning

The poets in the Betty Field were scribbling furiously

But I ignored them and requested a lift to an unknown world

I was placed next to a cage fighter named Super-Blossom

He was travelling with me to one of the smaller moons of Jupiter where he was due to fight a Hungarian cage fighter called Moon Super-Blossom

I promised to attend his fight

Lola-Veronique was at her desk translating Aben-Hamet from English into French which was proving difficult as she was not fluent in either language

It was rumoured that Lola-Veronique who had died young had been accepted into heaven on the recommendation of Saint Paula who had become obsessed with her beauty

It was said that they were lovers

There are many rumours in Heaven

Les yeux tendres de Lola-Veronique

I looked at her portrait that had been painted by her sister Paula

She was a tall woman with an elegant neck and raven hair who always dressed in white even on the most filthy of days

Her gentle temperament was loved by all especially the tubercular children of the village who she saw frequently

As they neared death she would arrange their removal to a coastal resort and in time they would return in perfect heath with all traces of the disease gone

The painting was called

Les yeux tendres de Lola-Veronique

And it was shared by the many moons of Jupiter and was displayed for long periods of time on each as the mother planet was quite far from the sun

After the cage fight which ended in a draw I travelled into the interior into the cold dry deserts where I was told I would find a grand piano that have never been played

On my initial visit I found nothing except colourless rocks and sand but I was persuaded to return and on this visit I met a white peacock

Le desert n’a pas de couleur     

I was invited to play the piano by the peacock but no sound came from its keys

Le desert n’a pas de son

A great warrior approached me and sliced the white peacock in half with his sword

Le derniere paon etait mort mais il a celebre sa couleur

He asked me to play the piano

I refused saying that the instrument was silent

He drew his sword again and ran its erratic edge across my throat drawing blood

I drew my dagger and thrust it into his eye and he fell lifeless at my feet

As his body decomposed I began to play sweet music which echoed across the empty wastes of the desert

Soon the warrior’s son arrived with an army so large that it inhibited the light of the distant sun

He drew his sword and ran it into my heart

But I was not harmed and I killed him just as I had killed his father with my dagger

I gouged out both his eyes and covered him with animal fat so that the maggots would burrow with ease and tear his very soul apart

The army retreated

Is evil leaders slain

La chapelle dans mon coeur blesse etait maintenant plein de la devouee     

I buried the peacock in an elaborate grave and placed its heart next to mine and promised eternity

The creature knew my lie and its eye flickered for one last time as it began its journey into heaven

My return to the mother ship took me over forty years and on my arrival I slept with the elderly cage fighter as I needed love

I had not aged

Those who create music where there is no music do not age

La musique du desert  

The flying saucer was full of rust and not fit for flight and I learned from an academic that the gravitational pull from Jupiter had increased whilst I had been away

In years this cultured moon would crash into its hostile parent

I found the graves of the original crew and exhumed their remains as I did not know how to repair the craft and soon my transport was fit for its purpose

I sat in the pilot’s seat next to Lola-Veronique and slowly we began our journey towards the Betty Field where the poets were still scribbling furiously

In a matter of weeks I had joined them as had Lola-Veronique who was still translating Aben-Hamet from English into French

Which was still proving difficult as she was not fluent in either language