Jupiter

Michael LeBeau has wet his pants.

He is Jupiter, the fifth planet, with a mass

318 times that of the earth.

He is soaked.

Even his socks are wet.

He is crying tears of great magnitude.

They are falling on the surface

Of his plaster planet like meteorites.

Michael’s father,

With a mass five times that of his son,

Sits in the dark,

Front row far right,

Where he can see the commotion,

Where he can see Miss Oullette’s panic,

Where he can see his son’s moons shaking.

Saturn comforts Jupiter in reedy silver voice.

Saturn is the sixth planet,

95 times the size of Earth,

Half the size of Michael.

Finally Mars sings Michael’s part

And the show goes on,

Saturn to Uranus to Neptune to Pluto.

Pluto is a first-grader

And that is the end of the play.

Michael and his father drive home,

Where his father helps him out of his costume.

Michael falls asleep shivering on the couch.

His father looks up the moons of Jupiter

And begins to recite them in the dark:

Adrastea, Amalthea, Ananke

He covers the boy with a blanket

Carme, Callisto, Europa,

Ganymede, Himalia, Sinope,


And sags into his chair

Thebe, Metis, Lysithea,

Pasiphae, Leda, Elara, Io,


And stares at the moon

Poor little Io

And falls asleep too.

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

Rome and the Church in the United States

George Weigel

Archbishop Michael J. Curley of Baltimore, who confirmed my father, was a pugnacious Irishman with a taste…

Marriage Annulment and False Mercy

Luma Simms

Pope Leo XIV recently told participants in a juridical-pastoral formation course of the Roman Rota that the…

Undercover in Canada’s Lawless Abortion Industry

Jonathon Van Maren

On November 27, 2023, thirty-six-year-old Alissa Golob walked through the doors of the Cabbagetown Women’s Clinic in…