Alberta Moon Program
The Alberta Moon Launch
The war room hummed at half past three,
With maps spread out from sea to sea,
While lawyers, planners, strategists grim
Prepared a state on prairie whim.
“Now first,” said Rath, with mighty grin,
“We’ll need a flag, a mint, a din
Of solemn speeches, seals, decrees,
And maybe astronauts, if you please.”
“The people haven’t voted yet!”
Cried Mitch, still damp with civic sweat.
But nobody heard; they forged ahead
With passport stamps in gold and red.
Miss Chipiuk, in goggles round,
Declared, “Our legal base is sound!
The Court said something, more or less,
And therefore… onward to success!”
Then Parker, fingertips steepled tight,
Like Bond-villains late at night:
“Once all the provinces are weak,
The future shall arrive next week.”
Old Keith Wilson stroked his silver chin:
“The framework says we still can win.
Besides, the courts are quite unfair
When constitutions interfere.”
And Pardy, with professorial flair,
Pointed grandly through the air:
“We’re building all the structures now —
The public can catch up somehow.”
Outside the window, engines roared,
An oil-fed rocket proudly soared.
“ALBERTA MOON PROGRAM,” it read,
As sparks flew wildly overhead.
The checklist sat beside the door:
“Power? Water? Trade?” and more.
“Democracy?” one box remained,
Still blank, untouched, and unexplained.
Yet onward rolled the noble scheme,
Half startup pitch and half fever dream,
Till someone whispered, pale with fright:
“Did anybody ask Canada first?”