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Thursday, October 5, 2023

Black Holes (James Webb Telescope), Sonnet #612

 














There’s so much I don’t want to know

As I look beyond the Milky Way.

Black holes are the eyes of a crow,

Unblinking, thinking an idee

Fixe: “I see therefore I am an eye.”

What happens to what eyes swallow?

(I don’t want to know, or do I?)

I can’t see a Nothing beyond

The event horizon, but a wand

Beheld by the eye of my hand

Blindly writing an & —

Or, glass orbs with just one side

Tinted with silver iodide:

There, where crows’ ideas reside.

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