Cockamamie Celestia

Credit comes where credit’s due, and laws—

well, laws come twitterpated before the thaw

of old white men in old white suits;

They (omniscient, omnipresent, indescribable they) did it first to Galileo

then to poor sweet Mattimeo

(better known as Bob the bloviating, argle-bargling snob)

with the theory that he chose to lob:

Balls.

You laugh, but it’s quite a simple fall—

the world, the moon, the stars, and all the drumming racket between

it’s all just balls of a rather vibrant sheen.

Given, he colored himself early with the choice

of Al Gore for Internet’s first modest voice—

a tubular choice for a system clogged

with indecision blogged

for people! for substance!

Well, he’s nothing but a nuisance

some little boy crying wolf

when the world was playing golf—

but as the rest claimed ends of ice and fire

(destruction, not the Game of Thrones) desire

telescopes were found to spy The Bearded Man align

the perfect shot from His designs

too late to cry for all their hope

that God was not a golfing man or replicating trope—

Pool’s the game on which He set His celestial roots.

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