They launched me into space,
with a measly meal allowance
and seven days of oxygen.
In the official version,
soon after lift-off
I perished, confused.
That’s just the tale
wagging the dog,
as here I float, still.
No canine constellation,
just a cosmic stray,
sniffing out new worlds.
I’ve seen things
you wouldn’t believe,
but time moves on and
I’m just a relic of a race
to stars that glimmer
dimly in a saturated sky.