Sensing a chill in the air, I brought the universe indoors
with the tomatoes. It had been out there so long, I felt
it was too old for nights out and needed me.
The moon came first and went straight to the cat basket
where, unlike the cat, it seemed happy. Grateful, even.
Sirius made for the sofa while I faffed with the planets,
lining them up in size order on golf tees mounted in blu-tak
on the windowsill, curtains open so they could see the sky.
Don’t move, or I’ll swing for you.
Orion, Hercules and those pricks I put under the stairs,
then looked again – a matchbox, surely, would do.
I scooped all the angels off their spheres
and gave the whole gaggle a pinhead.
The Perseids trapped under a cup with a postcard,
I told them to calm down and ran them a bath.
Andromeda I shoved in the washing machine,
tried the Sombrero Galaxy on for size
then frisbeed it onto the wardrobe.
Word got out and red dwarfs were queuing past the shed,
curious, about what they’d looked down on for so long.
There were stars up the stairs and dark matter everywhere.