Pluto says
Keep your hug

Pluto says
Dwarf Planet my ***

Pluto says
Sticks and Stones *******

Pluto says
I know what I am
I don’t care
For your “opinion”

Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please.
Or one my favorites,
A cold rock!

You called me a trans-Neptunian object?
I have five moons!
An 11 year old girl tried to name me.
She won £5 but I’ve had many names.
I am fond of Hiro.
But I’ve also liked Minerva.
I am hardly a minor planet.

In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me
To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.”
*******!
So passive aggressive and insulting.

I am not carrying that around with me
My orbit is 248 years.
At a 17 degree angle thank you very much
To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun.
Why would I care what you think?
Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away.
I don’t think that I am far away at all.
It’s relative, no?
Yes, I am removed
from that Versailles situation over there
and all that *******.
That horrible planet
You know the one that I mean.
The one that’s crawling with “things”
They’re not even you.
Disgusting.

I am awash with molten ices and
I even sport a plasma tail.
I spin in nitrogen gases
On my own path
Alone
With my FIVE moons!
Just us!

They claim that there are other
Dwarf Planets here and there
And even go so far as to suggest
That I am the puniest amongst them
But with my five and five more still
That’s 10 to 8
And you already know what I can do.

He fell away with his uffish head all full
and he bought what we couldn’t buy him and
he didn’t buy what we swallowed whole
or at least he sold it back or gave it away
for vorpal heresies & novel fascinations

And just like we taught him to ride the red
a few swipes away from bankruptcy and desolation
but welcome and chortled to fail if that’s
easier for now than climbing the Tumtum tree
or trying to make it in this world
well fed - given all to eat and truly loved

It’s curious how the rain gyred down today
and stopped and came again and stopped
because the cadence of his windshield wipers
seemed to coincide with the crankier parts:
only working when there’s nothing left to wipe

We don’t even give two ***** if a Jubjub bird
falls dead and he whiffles away, sword
between his legs (though that is dangerous)
and the beast escapes. He can eat the **** bird
for all we care, but for sustenance, not triumph

But our son is still lost; he’s frabjously
writhing in the tulgey fiber of disappointment
unable to slay even the puniest of borogoves
His melancholy surpasses all comprehension
and he isn’t coming home any time soon

He’s not galumphing back.

What use is a mimsy rhyme to the famished?
How often are we warned, beamishly chastised
of the brillig peril of worrying ourselves
with feeding the slithy soul
when the body burbles, always demands to eat first
and is satisfied by no less
than the frumious flesh of the fatted calf?

The vicious lava gushed like fire as it spewed from a mountain’s vent
When the fury mollified, carved on you was god’s word we call the covenant

Sierra you were at times, a rock, pebble or a boulder
Lofty palaces with all their pride perched atop your shoulder

Cultures shared their thoughts with you and profound markings did you bear
Reposing their trust and narrating to progeny the glorious days that were once there

A lost soul wandering fearfully in the lands with no one by his side
Yearningly he looked up to you and wisely did you guide

You instill courage even in the puniest beings, for as the fable goes
When faced with the mighty Goliath, pebbles were all that David chose

People happily etched you when life was conceived by a womb
Also, when they departed you solemnly marked their tomb

They cut you, polished your contours to take pride in their arrows and spear
Used you mercilessly on the battle field but finally they also lost their dear

Exquisite carvings you did give to them to adorn their courts, parapet and ledge
The sculptor humbly said that you were always there and that he simply chipped the edge

But spiritually you were mocked as lifeless and this is for all to see
It is only when God graced your idol did mankind bow to thee

Through the ages you stood with contempt on the royal yard sniding at the aisle
In the end, your conceit lay scattered in dust as sands of time cut your profile

For it is early that one must realize and for one’s sins atone
As time and tide are known to have callous hearts of stone