Agent Scully (Gillian Anderson) from the X-Files and I wrote the poem to prove it...
Agent Scully, will you rendezvous with me?
Sheltered by some viaduct, umbrella'd by some tree,
to scan terrain for pheromones of alien display,
our one hundred thousand candle power torches
light the night sky and our trench-coats,
brushing at the elbow, make a sound I can't stop thinking - like your nylons swishing as you
climb the crime lab library ladder.
Agent Scully, will you rendezvous with me?
Can you set aside your microscope, your specimens and doubt, sweep away the vacuum flasks,
and let me take you in your labcoat, on the gurney,
while oscilloscopes record the supernatural effects
of red hair, green eyes, and skin the color of
the Mother of all ship's milk.
Agent Scully, will you rendezvous with me?
And take this G-Man by his cashmere lapels,
as those skeptical, crimson lashes lift, like the dawn sky, turning up those eyes of yours in which I see all of nature bowing down in adoration of a green no chlorophyll could emulate and take this G-Man down through the ferns, because I know the truth lay somewhere just beyond your valley.
Agent Scully, will you rendezvous with me?
Bring your ether and your scalpel, your rubber gloves and, please, your handcuffs and your stethoscope, some duct tape and a gun... I'm tired of all this mystery, let's just have some fun.
