Pale blue cosmic hearse

Neutrinos are the smallest of our problems

Gamma-ray bursts and blazar jets, just roast

Fast spinning, as they slice up the skies

To ensure no living matter, gets too close

 

Just one taste and you’re toast, at most

An Earth-sized target, is a curse

Sod Mars, we’ll hide in our hobby crafts

Behind our pale blue cosmic hearse

 

Homo erectus, stood tall with pride and sang

Reached up to the heavens, and abruptly died

Along came sapiens, floating in a can

Gave homo-artificial and homo-cidal, a free ride