A rocket scientist,
Designing a new generation
Of moon rockets,
Found the shape of plaster cats
(Pointy as they are on top
With wider bases)
Amenable to flight,
Stood fifty in a field,
Filled them up
With solid fuel,
And set their tails alight.

Not before and never since
Saw mankind such a sight:
Fifty tomcat missiles
Screaming skyward
In the night.
And precisely one week later,
Observing they had reached
Their destination,
Scientists revealed
(With wildest jubilation)
That on the moon
Were fifty little craters
Filled with plaster rubble
(Which anyone can verify
Who owns a Hubble).


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