Last Night I Threw Two Eggs

Last night I threw two
Eggs at a pregnant moon,
The first I had noticed in months,

Knowing no finger could
Point it out, the most qualified,
Well-intentioned of moon-guides

Certain to lead me astray:
This way—no that! Can’t you
See where I gesture?

No, I’m sorry, I cannot,
The only way I’ll see the moon
Is when I’m able;

Here’s a like on YouTube.
Hercules, shooting his arrow
At the sun, was rewarded

With a cauldron that
Bobbed him to Erytheia.
Rewarded, for his audacity!

Do you want to know
How far the eggs made it?
Not far. Certainly not to the moon.

One went up, then down.
The second went up, then down.
The arc of two eggs,

Concluded. What will I
Receive for my bravery?
Bleak business, perhaps,

This throwing of eggs.
My cats, however, happily
Ate the albumen, lapping

Smeared yolk from the lawn,
Noses sniffing the darkness,
Their upturned eyes overflowing

With momentary moonlight.

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