I sit back and recline
With a glass of fruity wine,
And copy Cassiopeia combing her hair
The midnight whizzing through the air;
But too proud. Just too proud to be revered.
Cry clipped 'W's
For the crocheted Muse,
She snubs me like all the others.

Then watch a plane glide through the Bear,
Just miss the stomach for a dare,
Swing by Major, ignore minor
Things like clouds and finer
Lines.
Tickle across Draco's pallid scale
And without fail
The North is bright tonight.

From Orion's Belt to two little dogs,
Sirius barks and Taurus is fogged.
Andromeda screams at the end of her ride,
Did Perseus just stop for a bit on the side?
But I lie. The world spins singularly by.
Astrology bites, and mythical cries
Are a packaged featured mystery prize.

The stars hit me in the sky.
So where am I?