I have a dead weight inside of me 

Which I carry around all day,

It often tries to kill me

And it will not go away.

 

I send this freight’s immensity

To the centre of a black hole;

Retracing the wandering journey

Of my wandering-wandering soul.

 

Mine is a grave singularity,

It contains a huge-huge mass,

In an infinitely small-small space:

A density — gravity — immensity — interface

Locked in a space-time place,

 

Curving towards the fault-line,

Where laws of physics cease to be.

This is where time elongates

Into images of me.

In the old world of clock-time,

Where I had ceased to be.

…………………………

A technological singularity,

An artificial ‘superintelligence’,

Not random, nor designed

To trigger life in all we left behind.

 

This technological expansion

Of the tiny human ‘mind’

Results in an AI-altered human state,

A malign reordering

Of fate.