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Eris
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Ruth Theodore
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Pluto puffs out his chest,
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Takes a deep breath, and says...
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"Eris it would be nice if we could have some time alone,
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But I know what it's like, I've got moons of my own.
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And they circle me so close as though they'll sneak beneath the skin,
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'til I can't tell if they're drawn to me or if I'm pulling 'em in.
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Oh, solar stupid system, stupid rule of gravity!
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Can't they all just turn the other way and you be drawn to me?
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When the sky wraps us tight in a blanket of light
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That renders us lovers,
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'til the truth nestles in in the dead of the night
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And steals all the covers
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So before I lose my nerve as he creeps up beside you,
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Before he crawls in and curls up inside you
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And I finally fall to bits...
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Gizza kiss, Eris."
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Thirty-nine times as far from the sun as Earth,
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And only two thousandths of the size,
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Pluto must rely on his mind,
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Being only one thousand four hundred miles wide...
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So he tells her a joke he heard about mother Earth and all her living cells,
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That are making their own craters and spying on themselves.
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While they roll around the sky they're careful not to make a sound,
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'cause if she hears 'em laugh she'll cry, and if she cries she drowns.
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"Oh foolish clown," thinks Pluto, looking down on his own empty ground,
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"She must have quite a weight to carry 'round."
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And the sky wraps them tight in a blanket of light
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That renders them lovers,
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'til the truth nestles in in the dead of the night
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And steals all the covers.
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And he raises his eyes with that feeling of sinking,
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Of what on motherfucking earth was he thinking,
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Of finally falling to bits.
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' it's only a kiss, Eris.
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But Eris the gracious and misleadingly friendly
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Smiles with warmth and says firmly, but tenderly...
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"Pluto please go and get some sleep,
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Gotta be up early in the morning,
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And your tambourine just can't keep the time.
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And if in the dark someone steals my heart,
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However hard you're shaking,
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Your tambourine just won't keep its beat...
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From racing.
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From racing."
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Plus the over-thinking, over-complicating
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Pluto has a habit of exaggerating,
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Of making white holes of molehills.
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' so it's sort of funny and it sort of isn't
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How he can't make plans or assemble decisions.
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Those white holes of molehills.
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Still the harder he tries the harder he finds it to stop,
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And the harder it gets the harder it gets to watch.
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But Pluto unruffles his feathers,
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Pulls himself together, and says...
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"Oh Eris it would be nice if we could have some time alone,
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But I know what it's like, I've got moons of my own.
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But not for the length of your legs or because you
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Mean more to me now than the heavens above you
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But because I love you to bits.
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Gizza kiss, Eris."
Ruth Theodore - Overflow
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