Raccoons in the Universe

Relaxing, I put on my fuzzy slippers
To explore the universe. There’s a comet,
Its swerving path about to make me vomit.
Now, looking at the Big and Little Dippers,
I think: raccoons in one of those wood chippers,
Shaking the world — then my Dad will bomb it,
Claiming, “Because it’s missing a grommet
It’ll cause untold damage. Go grab the strippers!”

Then, warning me about those waning moons
That interrupt the paths of falling stars,
Attaching field glasses to my handlebars,
He talks more trash about those fool raccoons
Until my mother yells at him, and swoons.
She freed the fireflies I had caught in jars.