Pluto's Lament

By Timothy Bovee

Born 1946


Upon Being Strip't of His Planethood by the International Astronomical Union

De-moted? Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Why does the new kid always get the axe?
Seventy-six short years a planet,
Then with a vote, I'm shrunken to a dwarf.
So much for working within the system.

Where were my older colleagues when the chips were down?
Runty Mercury, Shy Venus, poison beneath the veil,
Dust-bin Mars, Fat Jupiter,
Blue Earth, drenched in water and blood,
Saturn -- pretty, but what's the point?
Windy Neptune, Lord of Marches,
Defending an elite from the outer wannabes.
And Uranus! I never laughed at his name,
At least in the light of day.
Such a sorry crew, these planets.
Location, location, location.
Size matters.
On those cliches alone rest their patents of nobility.

Weep for the little ones, those that lost their chance.
Charon, with whom I dance and share a neighborhood uncleared.
UB313, Warrior princess in all but official name.
Ceres, classed with pebbles yet dreaming still of Planethood Lost
Through centuries spent tumbling along the Belt.
And what of Sedna, Quaoar, Varuna?
No Greeks nor Latins these, yet worthy of respect,
For a sphere's a sphere for a' that.

To Hell with pity! Sic Transit Gloria Kuiper Object!
Call me Pluto. Have orbit, will travel.
Well rounded, acceptable mass.
Slightly eccentric. Let's do lunch.

DayPoems Poem No. 2801
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2801.html"> by Timothy Bovee</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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