MacCannon

MacCannon was a Fireball man. That rambling rocketeer
Could lift off into orbit on a single keg of beer.
The whisky that he much preferred was made not for the meek
Unless you were a Scot, it would ground you for a week.

MacCannon was a macho man, a brawling, balling Celt.
For EVA he needed just a helmet and his pelt
His lady friends expressed their love in moans and groans and pants
And made remarks among themselves concerning elephants.

Its clouds sulfuric acid, high above the CO2( ½ down)
So hot and thick down underneath that lead itself would stew,
The atmosphere of Venus is as poisonously ripe
As the air became around us when MacCannon lit his pipe.

His ship once had an argument while passing thru the void,
Alone, about the right of way, with one big asteroid.
Adrift, he used the time to make a large discovery,
The art of shooting craps to win in zero gravity.

The devil knocked upon the lock and said, “You’re doomed to die.
Come down with me.” MacCannon spat some whisy in his eye.
The sizzle and the reaction sent the devil with a yell
On a hyperbolic orbit that would take him back to hell.

MacCannon then decided his diabled boat should boost.
He ate himself a mighty meal of beans and set himself to roost
Upon a mass ejector tube far sternward in his craft,
And the ship went leaping forward from the thunders booming aft.