CANTO FIVE. REX TILLERSON.
The rosy sun peeked o’er the tops of monument and dome
Until it reached the window panes of Tillerson’s fine home.
Rex Tillerson, in study lined with books and charts diverse,
Was pondering origins of the complex universe.
No moron he, with brains as big as watermelon fruit;
Rex Tillerson did calculus -- and also played the flute.
He deigned to oversee the State Department just for kicks,
And dreamed he could discover the headwaters of the Styx.
Like any self-respecting sage, he longed to poke and prod
Into the cosmos constantly (and maybe play at God.)
In his garage he tinkered with a large and sturdy kite,
With which he thought he could achieve intergalactic flight.
Powered by a Democrat who ran inside a wheel,
The kite was ready to be launched with scientific zeal.
And thus assured, Rex Tillerson, that mighty man of brains,
Mounted to the cockpit to pull levers and grab reins.
Faster than a supersonic jet he sped away
Right past clouds to play at tag with satellites all day.
Landing on the Moon, he found it dusty and inactive.
The fact that Bernie Sanders wasn’t there made it attractive.
Impatient to discover all the mysteries of space,
Rex Tillerson continued at an arbitrary pace.
On Mars he found canals and polar ice and gun control;
Anyone who shot one off was put on hard parole.
Past the gaseous giants he fled into the abyss --
And found that all dark matter was milk chocolate made by Swiss.
Bouncing off a black hole he caromed into a star
Where the Little Prince sang in a bleak karaoke bar.
Tillerson then twittered to his boss that he had found
That the Big Bang Theory was disproven and unsound.
All matter was created not by blast but by design,
And with the Golden Rule his chief had better soon align.
Back on Earth the Chief received this tweet with unbelief.
He told the press that Tillerson’s appointment had been brief.
Now he was ambassador to all of outer space
(after which all record of him vanished without trace.)
They named a comet after him, a constellation too --
But where he really went not anybody really knew.
Among the constellations there is plenty of hearsay
That as an immigrant he cannot cross the Milky Way.
(to be continued)
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