The flat-earther ignoramus doth not
partake in the orrerian anatomy —
while the Descartes-like needlepin,
tracing the cosmic material around —
She eludes, meanwhile boxed in, voicing:
Fool! it’s merely a convenience —
You think not of my enormity,
yet a comfort when you look up,
When you step out at an odd hour
the unquiet mind phonates to stars
as the serene night-quiet’s Spirit
caresses your angst, putting pause 𝄐
charming or tedious 