a brief history of today

Today I read Hawking:
felt small,
dull,
weak...
one more wannabe -
outspoken,
bound for broken,
bound for the ultimate
solitary sink,
down
to the lightless,
earthen
crush.

Today I read black holes,
quantum gobbledy-nonsense -
the vast unknowable panoply
of the far-off,
crushing,
infinite
black.

Today, I had a "me" attack
(out-of-body,
looking down at this
patch of flesh and bone,
these fingers that tap-tap-tap these keys
above these knobbled, nerve-dance knees)
and thought of Hawking,
body-broken,
crushed,
looking off into the infinite,
and seeing nothing
but an absent-minded God.

Comments

  1. Thank you, sir. I thought it came out well, considering I vomited it out mostly out of desperation for having not written creatively in a few days.

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