Questionable Practices

To the Moon Alice

Mean as a sitcom

Ralph grins like a pumpkin

I’m warning you Alice

Forget it thinks Alice

I’m leaving the next time

He shakes that fat fist

Alice looks up at

A full autumn moon

The deep amber of honey

How can I get there?

Russia sent up that puppy

It can’t be so hard

Shouts come from the airshaft

Our neighbors the Nortons

Are fighting again

Ed Norton lord love him is

No rocket jockey

But knows how things work

Trixy is smarter

And sexy to boot

Now what does she see in him?

Hey Ed can you help me?

I want a surprise

For Ralph on his birthday

Can’t let him find out

That I’m planning to split

He’d tip off old Ralphie-boy

We’ll launch Brooklyn’s first moon shot

I know we can swing it

We got what it takes

We’re looking for thrust

In a ship that can boost us

To Mach twenty-six

There’s three ways to do it

Drop bombs or burn fuel

The third I forget

An A-bomb would probably

Damage our rooftop

Can we get rocket fuel?

Ed says there’s some fuel in

Cans in the sewers

He’ll swipe some tonight

He starts with the guts

Of a washing machine

Alice found in the street

Sweat-soaked Ed Norton

Grabs a-hold of a wrench

And a butylene torch

He solders a chamber

For Feynmann-type bombs

That are dropped out the back

Sly Ed builds a gantry

With tools from the sewers

While Ralph drives a bus

Alice the seamstress

Sews up a snug space suit

And a spare just in case

Up on the rooftop

The lift-off is sparked

By oxyacetylene

At the wheel of his bus

Ralph watches the take-off

No dinner tonight

Forget about food

Crafty Ed tells Ralph later

Let’s bowl and drink beer

Weightless in orbit

Black stars at the windows

Alice howls like a dog

There’s no stack of ironing but

Space is sure lonely

She thinks in despair

A noise from the closet

The spare suit is moving

My god it’s alive

Stowaway Trixie

Comes out with a grin

Alice, we’re free of them

Zoom!