The sun she became a woman
and spread her hot legs
for the young man in the moon
and oh what a wild child
that Earth is.
Never gives you the cold shoulder like Mercury,
the orgasmic war cry of Mars,
tantalizing sighs of Venus,
runs cold, rock-strewn rings around you,
or up and disappears like dark, irrelevant Pluto.

Just lives in blood and sorrow
and the ecstasy of its
history until
it will turn over in bed at last
and do itself in,
suicide by spoil.