April 16, 2019Portrait of the Black Hole as Alcoholic
The shape of your shadow is circular, just like Einstein
predicted. Your picture looks like a drunk selfie: blurry orange
smear of chin, one dark eye draped lazily, gazing straight
into the void. 6.5 billion times bigger than the sun, you black out
Wednesday, swallowing light and matter, whatever lies
between you and the rim of that glass. Cosmic abyss,
we joke, slapping the dark vacuum of your back. Every day
you get a little hungrier. He just needs a friend,
we say. Like we could pull ourselves from your lopsided
ring of light if we wanted to. “The most exotic disrupter
of cosmic order.” It’s true. We like behemoths
of nothingness. We like your face slightly
askew. Hiding vodka in your sock drawer. Your kid’s
dollhouse. Darkness finally made visible.