When we last saw the astronaut, she was having quintuplets.
There was nothing left to drink but stupid Tang,
And no one to help her except for her dog Sirius.
Under an orange sky, she invoked the Divine.
"Dear God," she gritted out, adding monikers and flourishes that would make a Saturnine whore blush,
"Give a girl a fucking hand. Amen."
Twenty-three hours later, the astronaut was as empty as her discarded NASA helmet.
Who knew such small faces could make a constellation?
Five perfect points like a yellow star drawn by a schoolgirl.
"Sirius, keep us and protect us," prayed the astronaut, to the nearest known power.
The dog did exactly that, with noble fearlessness,
Down all his days under the dome of Heaven.