He claims as much right to declare here what he thinks
as long as a star shines forth, and a monkey stinks.
"Looking skyward just brings more aggravation---
"like when my soul endures hard constipation.
"When I look skyward toward a consternation
"(I do that just a little before midnight;
"hard to stay up for all that winking starlight.)
"But here is my complaint in aggravation---
"why does star-naming, or astronomy,
"insist on naming every constellation
"from some component of mythology.
"I ask . . . why is that, and what is the need?
"And, if a need, I think it rather sad.
"I offer, as explicative example
"and, be assured, it is a single sample.
"It is unfair (and what could be unfairer
"than forcing this upon us, yes indeedl
"prepare yourself---this sad fact often shocks):
"they call a constellation, Water Bearer,
"in homage to that fem boy, Ganymede.
"Up with that, why am I compelled to put?
"That scamp rises there, probably barefoot;
"or maybe more provocatively clad
"only in thigh length, rainbow-stripey socks!"
Our loquitor has found his favored glee-spot---
as he expounds this tempest in a teapot.
Starward