Oh blubbering nebulae of bureaucratic slime,
Hearken to this most dolorous rhyme!
For Douglas Adams, that scribe of renown,
We vomit forth verses of gelatinous brown.
With squelching syntax and belching prose,
We honor his mind where improbability flows.
Hitchhiker’s Guide! A tome most absurd,
Turning logic to gibbering, flailing bird.
Behold the beauty of bureaucrats vile,
Whose forms in triplicate stretch mile by mile.
For Adams, dear Adams, saw through the farce,
And sculpted with words a galactic arse.
The number 42! Oh cosmic decree!
A joke of the universe, but not for thee!
With Marvin the Paranoid, sighing so deep,
And whales who contemplate death in their sleep.
O Adams, grand spinner of nonsense profound,
May your soul in hyperspace ever be found.
Yet should you return, we promise you this:
More poetry! More Vogon! More hideous bliss!
Oh blubbering nebulae of bureaucratic slime, Hearken to this most dolorous rhyme! For Douglas Adams, that scribe of renown, We vomit forth verses of gelatinous brown.
With squelching syntax and belching prose, We honor his mind where improbability flows. Hitchhiker’s Guide! A tome most absurd, Turning logic to gibbering, flailing bird.
Behold the beauty of bureaucrats vile, Whose forms in triplicate stretch mile by mile. For Adams, dear Adams, saw through the farce, And sculpted with words a galactic arse.
The number 42! Oh cosmic decree! A joke of the universe, but not for thee! With Marvin the Paranoid, sighing so deep, And whales who contemplate death in their sleep.
O Adams, grand spinner of nonsense profound, May your soul in hyperspace ever be found. Yet should you return, we promise you this: More poetry! More Vogon! More hideous bliss!