(for Kate G)
There is a space-time horizon
Over which we cannot peer
It is fear - this 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
That contains a huge mass,
In an infinitely small space:
A density — gravity — immensity — interface
That wont let me pass.
Locked in this space-time,
I'm curving at the fault-line,
Where the laws of physics cease to be.
This is where time elongates me
And the dead images flee
Into a technological singularity
an artificial ‘superintelligence’,
Neither random, nor designed,
Just a means to trigger my mind
Into the expansion, required in time
Poetry - results in this altered human state,
Discarding the terrifyingly malign
Re-ordering of fate
That always comes too late.