I have a dead weight inside me
Which I carry around all day,
It often tries to kill me
And it won’t go away.
I send this freight’s immensity
To the centre of a black hole;
Retracing the wandering journey
Of my wandering soul.
Mine is a grave singularity,
It contains a huge mass,
In an infinitely small space:
A density — gravity — immensity — interface
Locked in space-time,
Curving towards the fault-line,
Where the laws of physics cease to be.
This is where time elongates
Into images of me.
In the old world of clock-time,
A technological singularity,
An artificial ‘superintelligence’,
Not random, not designed,
Is a means to trigger
The technological expansion of the ‘mind’
Resulting in an altered human state
Such a fucking malign re-ordering of fate.