I love her so I bronzed my cat
And though she’s not enthused by that
I lined her litter box with zinc:
She’s pooping pennies! (Which don’t stink.)
Admittedly, I’m way behind
On following the Tour de France.
No spoilers, please, if you don’t mind.
I’m pulling for that new guy, Lance!
You didn’t stop the cable when
You left and so, to my regret,
A whole week’s worth of shows came in
And overflowed your TV set
And that’s how come your carpet’s wet.
Can you play that song
By that guy? You know the one…
I forget the tune.
The sun, I’ve found, consistently
Sinks out of sight at night. When we
Retire, say, to go to bed,
The sky is filled with stars instead.
No, really! Try this science test.
(Pro Tip: Late afternoon is best
To set it up.) Go out and find
A place where you can see a kind
Of pinkish-orange glowing place
On one part of the sky. That space
Is roughly where the sun will “set.”
Keep watching there. If you forget
And everything goes dark, don’t worry,
Science happens in a hurry
Even if you’re not observing.
Give your neck a gentle swerving
Left and right. If there’s a spot
Where it’s not fully dark, you’ve got
A helpful clue: That way is west!
The darker part (that’s all the rest)
Is where the twinkly stars appear
(Or moon, at certain times of year).
Don’t look too closely; you’ll get dizzy
And you’ll think the stars are busy
Chasing through the sky all night.
Just close your eyes; you’ll be alright.
It’s time for bed, now, anyway.
You’ve scienced quite a bit today!
We’ll save experimenting how
The sun comes back for later. Now
You scientists should close your eyes
And dream of deep, black, sunless skies.
Real life can’t dish out
Any beast I’ve not dreamt up
Louder with more teeth
If it were just me
I could stage a traffic jam
Anytime I liked