Shame on you cruel astronomers
For the callous, and hurtful, notion
That stripped poor Pluto of membership,
And stuck it with unjust demotion.
A pox upon you scoundrels
Who concocted the infamous project
That reduced a sad, little planet
To a trivial Kuiper belt object.
How dare you consign the modest orb
To an ignominious genus?
And label it inferior to
A sulfuric hell like Venus.
It won't fawn on the Sun like Mercury;
Pluto follows its own humble pattern.
It’s not ostentatiously obese like
Imperious Jove or Saturn.
You're fine with gloomy Neptune,
You let all its toxic faults pass,
And confer majestic planethood
On a fat ball of natural gas.
Are you jealous of Pluto’s close-up view
Of the far-flung, glittering stars?
Is that why you say it’s not as good
As a rusty red lump like Mars?
And, of course, it doesn't come anywhere near—
The "awe-inspiring" Earth.
Because Mother Terra's the "sacred locale"
Of your own, highly dubious, birth.
Was there no other way to satisfy
Your cosmic cosmetic solution?
Could you not have let little Pluto
Be a world for just one revolution?
Fie on you arrogant eggheads!
Your crime against Pluto was heinous,
And happy's the day your bright ideas
Get shoved (sideways) up Uranus!