A retinue if moons, of icy moons
They illuminate the land
And they make me thing of you
What sunk silently
To the depths of a mystery
A clue that only one scientist knew

Who knew that the sky is now found to contain
Benzene and methane and chalk
And bloody mud, muddy blood from the sky
From the sickly sweet wings of Edith’s Checkerspot Butterfly
They die in the ocean
Their legs are broken
The rain slows their flight as it soaks their wings

A microphone will listen for thunder
The telephone will dial the number
To deliver a, a clearer picture
Of weird wet weather
This puts all previous discoveries in doubt
These are things we have theories about

Overhead two sky titans
They collide in slow motion
While over the Ice Tongue, fluid flows
A 1000-foot thick chunk of sediment is exposed
Your own special home

A choking, vapor-laced haze
Obscured by acid rain
Enveloping everything
On the edge of the Milky Way