In Which I Mash Up Astronomy And Nirvana, Because I Can

I'm happy 'cause today I found my sun

Has much less lithium than it quite should

But it's not in my head, the reason, one

That is not in my head; my will is good:

I'll tell you why. Yeah. Planets make it slow,

The star's rotation, and the mineral,

So heavy, deep within the star must go,

Drawn there by mighty force to fuse. Farewell

To it then; it is something else. Thus those

With less of the third element, are more

Than likely candidates for planets. Prose

Ill serves such wonders. Mirrors? I've broken four!

But I must tell you I'm not going to crack.

I love this news; I'm never looking back!

In Which I Rewrite A Lambert Hendricks & Ross Classic Because I'm Feeling Silly

In order to keep me well on my leash
A threat was made one time to take away
My bottle. You may well imagine - sheesh! -
The furore that ensued. "No!" I did say
Unhand that; 'tis well known I can't get well
Without the fruit of many a fair vine,
Yea even were it only Muscatel
(Though I prefer a somewhat nicer wine).
And though ye may beat my head out of shape
As long as I am left enough to toast
My health and yours, yes, please leave me my grape,
Then truly you may lead me out to roast
In hot sun or on fiery coals, your choice.
With whistle wet you'll barely hear my voice.

BONUS SONNET: SONNET DARE: Another One Bites The Dust

So warily does Steve walk down the street,
His hat brim pulled down low over his eyes,
That one might well guess that he's packing heat.
It's all good fun until somebody dies.
Let fly some bullets from a doorway; rip
They do through all, and one more bites
The dust, as oft is said by those real hip
Cats Freddy Mercury sang for. Such sights
Are common in Steve's world. They rip again,
As though to some drum beat, and, oh, these plays
Must end in blood; revenge is best served when
One has been cheated, beaten, left for days
As Steve has surely been. There goes one more
And sure more violence must lie in store.